Sunlight's Return
by MilkywayScribbles
Summary: After being on the run from Team Rocket, Jayce Ketchum is determined to bring down the organization and at last be reunited with Ash and Delia. But while he and his unexpected recruits are forced to apprehend the organization's wish to manipulate unspeakable power, the journey to salvation endangers the family he left behind to protect. "Silently Broken" 'verse.
1. I Can't Run Anymore

**Author's Note:**

Long time no see my readers! Here it is! THE STORY WE ALL HAVE BEEN WAITING FOR.

Thanks to your wishes of a continuation with this series, we are finally about to embark on the third installment of _Silently Broken_ 'verse! XD Yaaay! I know you all have been eager for this promised story, and I appreciate all your support and patience.

For those of you who are new readers, _Sunlight's Return_ is part of an ongoing three-part saga I have created that explains the absence of the Mr. Ketchum (my version: Jayce Ketchum), how his leaving affected Delia and Ash, and how I've overall tried to have these stories fill in any empty caps or questions about Ash's life and Pallet in general. So basically, my goal has been to make these stories for fans that are hungry for an explanation or those who enjoy the feel of the original series with a twist! XD

I would **HIGHLY **suggest reading _Sunlight's Return's_ predecessors before reading on (especially _Silently Broken_, for it might be a tad confusing to new readers). I have added in original characters, extending Ash's family, as well as original twists and turns that might need extra explaining (**for example**: Jayce and Drake are half-brothers, Ash and Gary are cousins, etc.). These concepts have been so happily accepted by my readers in the past, that I decided to keep them in the series seeing they have become beneficial to the plotline/development of the stories. But of course please don't feel intimidated as a new reader. :) The more readers, the merrier!

Also, just to name a few clarifications regarding _Sunlight's Return_, this fic will _**only**_ consist of three pairings. One being the overall predominate shipping, and the other two will be minor. **Hence**: The minor pairings will be hinted through the story; _**however**_, they are not the primary focus of this fanfic. Though they do have their importance and serve purpose. This is not a story solely based on romance, just with elements of it.

**Main pairing**: Parentshipping (Mr. and Mrs. Ketchum)

**Minor pairings**: Pokeshipping and Rocketshipping

**PG13 CONTENT: **Rated T for adult situation, violence, language, **mild **sexual content, and crude humor.

Lastly, this story takes place six years after Ash set off on his Pokémon journey making him sixteen. When will Pokémon ever officially end and if Kalos is the final region I do not know, but let us assume this would take place after Ash has visited all the regions- or at least the majority of them. ^^; The time scale in the show is so off that this is the best age range I could determine for one of our main protagonists!

Oh, and one more thing after writing one of the longest a/n's notes I have ever written!

**DISCLAIMER**: _Pokémon/Pocket Monsters_ belongs to Nintendo and Satoshi Tajiri. However, Jayce Ketchum and my other oc's belong to me. :)

Please enjoy, and be prepared for a bellyache of laughs, drama, and surprises to come! That you most definitely must do. ;)

* * *

**Sunlight's Return**

**Chapter 1**

_I Can't Run Anymore_

Resurrection.

To rise from ashes and live life to the fullest all over again.

Only a legendary, a guardian of the skies, could make such a miracle occur. The existence and power of such a divine spirit is far too large and complex for a mere being to comprehend. But to surpass…

Then there are those of humanity- ones who fight for life, the others who fight for destruction; in the end neither one will yield to the other, as they both wish to manipulate the power that can collapse all indestructible limitations, and to make those lost rise from ashes rise again, wrongly taken or not-

In the end, it is the control over the great power that they are fighting for.

The pure intentions against the impure intentions.

* * *

Evening rolled in just as fast as the citizens in the bustling city of Saffron.

Many of the people retired from their long, draining work hours and ventured off to a particular popular lavish restaurant instead of slaving over a hot stove. The dim-lit establishment was filled with many chattering guests, munching away and indulging on their fine dining experience with talk about their hectic day. All seemed normal. Costumers, workers, orders- that is, till a certain couple strolled into the vicinity. There in the later dinner hours entered a woman with dark blonde hair, dressed in a violet dress with a slit down the front accompanied by sparkling metallic gold earrings. The green haired man beside her wore a simple but finely crafted black suit with his arm tucked around hers. They appeared to be wealthy, spending their money frivolously on the most expensive items on the exquisite menu. However, that was not their main reason for being there.

From there, they approached a waitress at the front of the restaurant. "We had reservations with a Mr. Brimble," the man informed.

_Brimble_…

The waitress shot her gaze up from her post, catching sight of the couple before her. She blinked momentarily, and then smiled a very crooked grin. From there, the dressed-up woman sneakily slipped a compact mirror out of her indigo clutch; the makeup tool usually used to catch blemishes was a disguise for hiding her _true_ identity and purpose of being there. As the waitress drew her upper body forward to get a closer look, her smile only grew all the more at the compact mirror. She was expecting them. All three of them had their eyes locked again after the confirmation, and with a high head and a wink the worker led them over to their destination.

"Right this way."

They walked past a few occupied tables nonchalantly, going to the back of the restaurant and eventually stopped at a table only serving one. At least currently. There sat an older gentleman in a corner, dressed just as nicely as the one now accompanying him for dinner, and he was busy reading the menu.

The waitress saw he already had a glass of wine, and promptly acted on serving the others. "I will fetch you some drinks momentarily," she stated, gesturing for them to take their seats.

In unison the couple nodded to her as she strolled away, then their attention was turned elsewhere. They were anxious to get down to business.

"Mr. Brimble, right?" the man spoke up promptly, yet in a hushed tone. It wasn't long before the seated man drew his attention up, watching them closely with caution as they proceeded. "We're here about the job. Project _H_."

For a moment Mr. Brimble stared at them wide eyed, and settled his menu aside. _They_ were the new recruits? "Do sit down."

He was surprised that they were the ones chosen for the mission. The pair was much younger than him, and he wondered how much experience as agents they had under their belts. They had to at least be in their late twenties, so the couple's year of joining was within a wide time span. Then again, it wasn't as if his former boss would just send out _anyone _for this task.

They had to be the best of the best.

"You two sure you wanna take this on?" the retired man asked wearily as the couple sat down across from him, shocked someone jumped on the job he left behind so willingly. From what he understood, many had been offered the position but refused to take it. And he could hardly blame them.

"It was assigned to us," the dark-haired blonde woman responded first, placing her clutch in her lap, "and my partner and I never steer away from a good fight. Besides, we're supposed to get an extra big bonus if we pull this off." She then looked to her male friend with a confident grin. "And we _will_."

"Well, I tip my hat to you two," he replied with a half-smile and huff. "But it isn't going to be easy."

Though that claim didn't appear to persuade the confident duo at all.

There was this abundant feeling of pride radiating off the pair, as if nothing in the world scared them. That, Brimble supposed, was the kind of recruits needed for the job. Ones who were willing to face all obstacles, headstrong enough to plow through dilemmas and think tactfully about their plan of attack- and, maybe, not feel sorry for their enemy's situation. Then again, from what he witnessed during his time on duty, those who were unyielding to the most dangerous situations, so stubborn and set on their goal that logical thinking escaped their raging minds completely, ended up being caught in their own trap. And Brimble could second that on a very _personal_ level.

It was only right to give them forewarning.

Seeing his words hadn't done much in shaking their high spirits to a more stable status, Brimble sighed and held onto his wine glass loosely, swishing the liquid back and forth gently. He then met their gaze with serious tension. "Let me just be straight with you. Give you some advice before you two get ahead of yourselves. I've been high-tailing this guy for almost ten years and if it wasn't for my recent retirement, I'd still be out in the field lookin' for him. He's impossible to track down. One minute you think he's in a town, the next he's in a big city that is loaded with people. Then he's winning leagues and off to the next region."

The hired man nodded first. "So we've heard he's a slippery character."

"And that he's a skilled trainer," his partner in crime added.

Brimble just chuckled faintly. They didn't get it. "Slippery and skilled are understatements," he bluntly stated, his smile shrinking. There was this harboring of old, unforgettable memories of those nine and a half years ago, all the disaster that occurred on that boat. Finding his partner dead, to have allowed their captive to escape without much of a fight, sinking their own use of transportation- Oh how cold that water was...

"When I was first assigned to this mission, I lost my partner of five years at the hands of him…it still bothers me today. This guy _is_ clever, so don't be so easily fooled by him. We sadly had to learn the hard way..."

The man had to be in his late fifties to early sixties, which explained why he got the boot. At his age, with the kind of occupation he previously had, he was just a disposable worker no longer fit and young enough to handle all the endurance and heavy stress. Not to mention, the appointed pair had heard plenty from their boss about how displeased he was with Brimble and his entire squad, and how they so pathetically failed at capturing this trainer, not even nabbing one of his Pokémon. Knowing this set a high bar for the younger agents, and if this trainer was as tough and sneaky as everyone said, _maybe_ Brimble's inadequacies weren't his fault entirely...With a nervous quiver of his lip, the man looked to his partner with sheer concern, and while she usually assured his worrying as nothing, she too appeared a tad unnerved by Brimble's words.

How could they not? Never had either one of them taken on a mission in which their object of capture was potentially as quick-witted and possibly a _threat_.

Brimble automatically took notice of their discomfort. "Now don't get discouraged, 'cause personally I wanna see this guy handed over to the boss and done away with." He did not intend on _completely_ demolishing their blinding egos, only giving them some simple and _useful_ advice before proceeding. Brimble just didn't want to see them disappoint the boss so miserably, waste a good part of their life on nothing, like he shamefully had- and _finally_ see someone successfully catch this trainer.

"He has given me hell for the last remaining years of my career, and I went out as a fool, thanks to him," the former agent went on, bitterness growing between every word. "Wasn't even able to capture one of his Pokémon... But I'm sure you two will pull it off," he abruptly dragged out, trying to shake off the remaining hate he had for the enemy. "You do have his profile, don't you? I'm sure if you do, that you know he has no specific type of Pokémon."

The man nodded first. "We do. It was faxed over this morning."

"But what we're curious to know is his character. His weaknesses _and _strengths," the woman threw in seriously.

So that's what they were getting at.

Brimble grinned with a slight shake of his head before slurping down his last gulp of wine. Damn, he needed more. "Well if you want to talk about strengths you better be a damn good runner and a fast thinker."

Both the agents' eyebrows lowered, but the man was the first to gulp. _And_ speak. They didn't like the sound of this, nor appreciated his unreadable expression.

"How fast and smart are we talkin'?"

The older man motioned for the waitress to pour him another glass. His eyes narrowed as the liquid hit the cup.

"_Exceptionally_ fast and smart."

* * *

"And yet again, the Orange Crew Leader, Drake, wins the match with a crushing victory thanks to Ditto! Ladies and gentlemen, is there anything this man can't do?"

At that very moment, in the sweltering island sun, Drake did feel unstoppable, even as he fought his way through adoring fans and straight back to his private lounge, more exhausted than ever.

Crashing onto the couch, Drake sighed and reclined back into the expensive leather furniture. Thanks to the assistance of the stadium workers, his Pokémon were immediately checked over after the battle, preparing them and Drake himself for their next exciting happening for the day. His _last_ battle. That is, for the season; which meant he was officially off duty of his leader roles and challenges for the remaining summer. It was like music to his ears, relief of immense stress that had been lifted off his shoulders.

His moment of quietness and reflection, however, ended abruptly by the barreling open of the lounge door.

"You were stupendous out there, Drake! Completely awe-inspiring!"

The skilled trainer cocked an eye open, finding his agent, Randy, standing before him with an equally enthusiastic expression of admiration as was in his voice. In some instances, Randy came off more pumped after a battle than he did. Soon Drake chortled at his compliment, and rubbed his sweaty forehead with a small towel. That battle sure was a close one for the trainer! He couldn't deny that. "I think it's fair to say that challenger gave me a run for my money, Randy," Drake replied with a small grin.

"She sure did!" the trainer's agent agreed. "But ya still hit that battle right out of the park! I've already got journalists calling in saying they want to schedule an interview with you," he went on buoyantly, flipping through his cellphone. "Of course, not until you come back from your retreat in the woods."

When did Randy not ever sneak in a chance to tease the man? The busy agent had been working at the Orange League's stadium longer than Drake had the job, and from day one he found a way to get underneath Drake's skin. But he never minded. Randy was harmless, flamboyant, and at times made ridiculous puns and jokes, but was never a considerable pain. After all, Randy sure had a knack for roping the well-known trainer into several interviews with _popular_ journalists, on _popular_ talk-shows that would air in _all_ regions.

"Do you have to put it that way?"

"Oh, I'm just teasin' ya, kid," Randy laughed again, jokingly slugging Drake's toned arm. "I don't blame you wanting to escape all this- well, madness! Speaking of which- Elsa, do you have his ticket?"

Randy's voice bounced off the walls loud enough for a woman with light blue hair to emerge out of a closeby room and travel straight into the lounge area with a calming smile.

"I have it right here, sir," she answered, meandering towards the men with a small, thick piece of paper in her hand. "Here you go Drake," she presented, standing before him. "Enjoy your vacation! You deserve it."

Drake sat up enough to graciously take the item he had so desperately been longing to hold from the secretary. "Thanks, Elsa."

"And don't you dare call to check in!" Randy ordered, wagging his finger. "The stadium will be fine, and I've got Elsa watering your houseplants while you're away."

The trainer nodded, seeing no desire to fight. "I appreciate it. You two are the best an Orange Crew Leader could ask for."

This only led to Drake's agent letting out another booming laugh. "Tell that to the guy before you! Hahaha!"

Typical Randy. Always finding humor in everything.

Eventually, before he became caught up in Randy's ongoing laughter, Elsa stole Drake's attention with a playful smirk. "Now Drake, do you promise to watch yourself? Because you do tend to work when it's not necessary," she remarked, eyeing him carefully.

A faint shade of pink scattered itself across Drake's cheeks. He had been caught red-handed, and couldn't argue the woman's claim.

Ah, Valencia Island. For the last few weeks it had been the place Drake dreamed about going, and now he was finally setting off.

Being the leader of the Orange Crew, the man had several duties to attend to: scheduling meetings with fellow gym leaders, private training sessions with his team, his agent arranging several opportunities for him to appear in magazines and on T.V., conferences held for young trainers seeking advice, and of course, monthly matches in which he gave it his all every time. With hardly any time to himself, Drake always savored the moments when he could escape Pummelo. Christmas was about the only break he got till that glorious warm blooming season- _summer._ Summer had so many perks for him. It was in summer that the skilled trainer would receive a two month reprieve from work, and then it was back to the stadium once more in September, doing the same old same all over again.

Drake planned on spending every second in Valencia Island doing absolutely nothing. It was a very secluded and quiet island, hardly any dwellers scattered across the land. Besides Prof. Ivy's research lab, the area consisted nothing more than wild Pokémon and breathtaking scenery. Drake was beginning to fantasize about laying out on the beach, hearing the waves crash against the sandy shore, his hardworking Pokémon snoozing peacefully away, and the sun's rays kissing his skin to the point where he earned a perfect tan… Having some time away from all the bustling cheers of roaring, dedicated fans was exactly the kind of reprieve Drake was in need of, and he was glad others saw that, too. There was no way he was going to push himself, no matter how tempting it sounded to train. After all, he and his Pokémon were on the verge of collapsing!

Drake smiled back at his publicist. "Believe me, I won't."

And he meant that with all sincerity.

In no time at all, Drake was given his healed and rested Pokémon, finally releasing him from the stadium entirely. Picturing himself laying on his favorite beach chair with a drink in his hand, the roars of the calming sea crash against the shore and cool water just skimming across his feet... It was the trainer's ideal vision of Heaven on Earth, collecting a sort of peace inside of him as he strolled towards the exit. He was free without any restrictions holding him back.

Well, at least free for roughly a month and a half.

"Bye, Drake!" he heard Elsa yell, waving.

"Have a save trip!" Randy added, standing beside her. "I better not see you come in a day sooner!"

Drake winked back as he glanced over his shoulder. Then, he waved in return. "You won't! See ya, guys! And thank you again!"

With his head held high Drake pushed forward, and his face met the rays of the brilliant sun. The entire front area of the stadium was empty, all of the workers and fans officially gone for the season until the next one. The trainer could only imagine how plugged up the airport was... Eventually, Drake looked down at his plane ticket and grinned an uncontainable one. Claustrophobic the airport might be or not, he didn't care. All he had to do was stop by his house, grab his already-packed belongings, double-check the security of his dwelling, and head straight for his destination and most likely wait in a long brutal line.

Then, he'd be off.

_Just think…_ He thought, leaning his neck back and savoring the feeling of the sun against his cheeks._ In few hours we're gonna be on a beach with no interruptions, no worries, and maybe I can at last get an even-layered tan-_

However, before Drake could take a step forward or expand upon his wondrous day dream, a sharp sound pricked his ears, clear enough for him to freeze instantly. He dropped his arched neck and stood still with curiosity rising, closely listening to the sound emanating behind him. A faint whistling of a tune that sounded oh so familiar and it came out of the blue...

_Wait a minute…_

Swiveling his feet slowly, Drake peered over his shoulder, only to find the last person he'd imagine seeing leaning against the building's wall with arms folded across his chest. How long had he been standing there?

The familiar face smirked as their eyes met. The whistling ended. "Hey. 'Bout time you noticed."

Had it really been close to _ten_ years?

Drake could hardly breath, he didn't even blink. Instead, he adjusted his throat and stuttered with such surprise he could not repress it. "H-hey," the young trainer swallowed. He had to tighten the grip on his ticket or else it'd fly away from the shock. "W-what are you doing _here_?"

* * *

The lush green landscape, the peaceful sound of streams running, and the peaks of the high unmovable mountains of home took Ash's breath away every time.

With the company of Pikachu riding on his shoulder, he was drawing closer and closer to the proximity of Pallet Town as he raced along the dirt road, smelling the familiar scent of oak trees' sap and many blooming flowers. And, _of course_, fields full of farm Pokémon. But that didn't bother the aspiring trainer. All that was on his mind was seeing his family again, visiting the Oak lab, and filling up his and Pikachu's rumbling bellies. _That_ was a definite for sure.

It felt like ages since he was last home, though it was merely just a year since he set off on another journey. While Ash was notorious for not keeping his calls home constant, he did attempt to come home for a short visit before gallivanting off to another region. However, arriving back home this time felt- different for him. Skidding through town with a brilliant smile, Ash passed several familiar buildings and faces, returning their grins with enthusiastic hellos and waves. It was only a matter of time before he reached his destination.

"Hey Greta!" he waved joyfully, slowing up his pace. "See you're still kickin,' Miss Whiskers!"

The old store keeper switched her attention from arguing with a costumer about the overpriced watermelon to the call of her name, discovering the arriving trainer with a similar friendly grin.

"Hi, Ash!" the little old woman greeted back, her elderly Meowth perched at Greta's feet as the feline went on grooming her mangy coat. The costumer groaned in annoyance at being ignored. "Glad to see you're home! Maybe you could take on that summer job I offered you last year!"

For someone else to deal with prickly costumers other than herself.

Ash simply chuckled back awkwardly as he went on jogging. "We'll see!" He hadn't planned on spending forever in Pallet, though it wasn't as if he hadn't thought about staying longer than usual or possibly earning some extra cash on the side...

But the thought didn't linger too long in the trainer's mind, for soon he spotted another familiar face begging to be acknowledged. Well, at least Ash enjoyed innocently teasing this individual.

"Hey, Tom! Nice bag!"

Without hesitation, the middle-aged mailman swung a glance over his shoulder, finding that his conversation with a neighbor (who, on the inside, was pleading for someone to intervene their brutal discussion over the appropriate diameter of a mailbox) was so rudely interrupted by none other than a member of the- _Ketchum _Clan.

"Now don't you cause any mischief, young man!" Tom hollered back, huffing to himself as he gawked back at his neighbor. How dare he mildly insult his finely woven mailbag! "Honestly, they're upstanding Samaritans when they stay in school, but as soon as they set off on those crazy journeys, you can forget it!"

Crazy indeed Ash's journeys could be at times. But there was always an upswing to them, a rewarding experience for any trouble brewing on his path to reach his goals. However, Ash was thankful to say that hardly any problems arose on his way home. Besides accidently losing his lunch to a pair of sneaky Rattata a few days ago, things had gone smoothly for him.

And he couldn't wait to share all his positive tales with his loved ones.

He passed by a couple other familiar businesses and residents, sharing equally pleasant smiles and hellos with the other townsfolk. After traveling to so many different cities in various regions, not one of them could compare themselves to Pallet. The quaint town had its own unique secure environment Ash could not explain but love. If one was born and raised there, one would understand quite clearly without exchanging a single word about it.

And that was a fact.

A smile inched its way into larger growth as Ash's steps slowed up incredibly, finally standing outside his destination.

The _Butterfree Inn_ was like a second home to Ash, an establishment his grandparents owned, in which he had to entertain his younger self while his mother was busy working between desk work and in the kitchen. But he never minded. Seeing as so many trainers stopped by to rest there, Ash was able to catch glimpses of various Pokémon at a young age, possibly playing a part in his adoration for the amazing creatures.

Walking briskly in, Ash marveled at the inside interior.

The decor sure had changed considerably since his last visit; wallpaper being updated, cabinets and the staircase refurnished, and it looked as if the rugs had been replaced as well. But the warm feeling of home hadn't dissipated at all.

Nor had the front desk been moved.

Ecstatically, Ash made his way to the check-in area, only to find no one. That didn't shock him, considering how busy the business was, especially during lunch, and well, it would just make his early arrival all the more of a bigger surprise.

Soon Ash leaned over the counter playfully, smiling mischievously as he rang the bell on the desk. From there, he drummed his fingers excitedly on the wood, wondering who would rush to the counter for his assistance. The squeak Pikachu gave away, though, alerted the trainer as to who it was. Ash's grandmother, Leah, about let out a delighted shriek as she came around the corner, but quickly resisted the urge as Ash pressed a finger to his lips. Leah smiled back playfully, nodding as if she understood his intentions.

Still, she couldn't resist the happiness she felt of seeing her beloved only grandson again.

"I'm looking for a Delia Ketchum," Ash explained jokingly once she walked behind the desk as if she was helping an average costumer. "Ya seen her around?"

Leah's smile softened with an affirmative nod. "I will get her for you." Walking away, she rounded the corner again and loudly yelled for her daughter, hoping it would force her to emerge out of the kitchen, though she knew Delia was busily occupied back there. "Oh, Delia! You have a _special_ someone here to see you."

The older woman could hear her daughter's feet once they reached the door, and her voice rose with pure curiosity, not catching on at all. "A special someone?" Delia repeated, looking at her mother, and Leah led her to where the person stood waiting. "I wonder who it could-"

Then she saw him.

In one big grin, Delia about felt tears of happiness slide down her cheek as she caught sight of a young, strapping but familiar messy-haired teenage boy standing before her. _He_ was home, finally home! "Oh, my baby! My baby! You're home!"

Ash chuckled lightheartedly, bracing himself. "Hi, Mom."

Her arms were wide open as she approached Ash, quickly enveloping him in an unbreakable motherly hug. "O_ooh,_ I've missed you so much, Ash!"

"Mom, you're squeezing me too tight!"

Even with puberty settling in and building nicely defined muscles, Ash swore his mother's strong bear-hugs had not diminished at all in tightness. Especially for a small-boned woman herself.

"Oh, I'm sorry, honey!" Delia quickly apologized, drawing back. Her silly smile beamed with slight embarrassment, but it immediately washed away at the sight of the mouse perched on top of her son's left shoulder. "And how could I forget you, Pikachu?"

Pikachu's eyes lit up. "Pika, Pikachu!"

"How you've been, sweetie?" she asked, scratching underneath the mouse's chin. "Has Ash been feeding you as well as he eats?"

In return Pikachu cooed happily at her question, enjoying every ounce of attention. Ash laughed a little at his mom's remark, and beamed up at his upbeat friend. "Hehe, no worries, Mom. Pikachu always gets his meals and my table scraps."

He still hadn't outgrown wearing a hat, and at this rate Delia didn't think he ever would. However, he had grown significantly in height. He was now his mother's height, and Delia swore it was only a matter of time before he'd tower over her. Ash was truly maturing into a handsome young man, and she couldn't expect any less. He was gleaming so radiantly like his absent father, and seeing him with that big silly grin, not understanding Delia's bittersweet expression, only furthered to tug on her heart strings.

"I can only imagine," Delia replied back wittily, giving Pikachu one last pat on the head before moving her hand away. Then, her gaze shifted back to her son. "As happy as I am to see you two, I wasn't expecting you to be home so soon."

"I caught an early boat ride, train, and once Pikachu and I hit Viridian there was no stopping us from running. We've missed ya, Mom," Ash blushed a little, rubbing the back of his head. "And Pallet."

"Well, I am so, _so_ happy to have you both back home-"

"Did I hear Ash? Is he really here? Oh, he is!"

Once Delia wrapped Ash up in her embrace, Leah had disappeared to go fetch Michelle, who was equally tickled pink to see Ash home at last. A close family friend to the Parker and Ketchum family, she had become like a third grandmother to Ash. And another family member who he couldn't help but love for their renowned culinary skills.

"Uh- hey, Michelle!" Ash greeted in return as Leah and she joined them. "Long time no see."

"Long time no see, it is!" Michelle replied, placing her hands on her hips. "We haven't heard from you in months!"

To have three mother-figures dotting over one like one was a prince of a faraway land would be what most would consider fortunate. However, Ash sometimes felt as if he was a little _too_ fortunate.

"I know, and I'm sorry about that. Sometimes I just get so wrapped up in my training I forget to call."

Typical Ash response.

This wasn't the first time he received a lecture from any of the women, and while he knew that they were teasing him half of the time and understood his situation, Ash couldn't help but feel bad for his habit of not calling. It wasn't as if he didn't want to call, it was just that he would let his proper manners slip, or in other instances, he simply needed some time to himself. Some independence. Yet with independence came responsibility, and as a growing teenager Ash would occasionally falter in that department.

But Delia and the others knew that all too well, and of course, accepted it as such. She could read Ash like a book, and the sheepish expression of knowing he was guilty of something unintentionally or not was always a dead giveaway. After all, Ash was never swift at hiding his emotions whether it was him drawing on the walls at age three or accidently breaking the structure of one of his bunk beds from jumping at age ten. Or forgetting to return phone calls at age _sixteen_.

"Well, try to call more often, dear, because we miss having you around," said Leah, a sly smile seeping from her lips as she eyed with a wink. "Plus if you stay in one spot long enough, we could actually send you a care-basket."

A care-basket full of nothing but homemade goodies. Ash had been deprived of one of those for too long.

"Yeah, I probably should stick around for those. I do miss all your guys' cooking!" Ash chortled, now thinking about how long it had been since he had a well-prepared, home-cooked meal.

"Well, you will be deprived of it for no longer because your grandma and I will whip up a special lunch while you and your mom catch up," Michelle promised, more than willing to make something. Though, her eyes drifted uncertainly up to her friend, unsure if it was wise to volunteer Leah to cook without her consent. "That is what you were thinking, right?" she asked, biting her lip.

Leah smiled back, without any disagreement. "You've always been able to read my mind, Michelle. Go ahead and relax, you two," she said, gesturing her grandson and daughter towards the dining room.

Ash lowered his eyebrows. "But what about you guys? I wanna catch up with you too."

"Oh, you will at dinner!" Michelle reassured, already beginning to scoot back to the kitchen with Leah. "Just save us a few adventures your mother hasn't already heard."

Both of the women found Ash to be an important individual in their lives, but that was nothing compared to the bond between the mother and son. And more than anything, Michelle and Leah wanted to see the two catch up. After all, they had seen Delia mope for too long in her times of missing her little boy.

Settled on her answer, Ash nodded. "Can do."

With a nod to seal the deal, Michelle bounded through the swinging kitchen doors with Leah behind her, leaving Ash and Delia to venture off to an empty table.

"So uh, the inn looks great, Mom," Ash commented, still in awe by the interior change as they began to walk.

There was no denying that the inn needed to be updated, and with more costumers pouring in the women were able to do just that. Ash could surely see his grandma's and mother's taste cast upon the entire entry room and into the dining hall. Its quaint chic homey-vibe of a French-Country style mixed with antique pieces surely spoke them, and the overall simple vibe of Pallet.

"Thanks, pumpkin," Delia humbly said. "Your grandma and I have done a lot of remodeling in the last year, and we've been getting a herd of tourists because of the new website we put up. And well, Michelle's cooking!"

"You guys finally have a website?"

They reached a table right in front of a recently cleaned window, getting a beautiful view of the flourishing flowers planted out in the front. Most likely Delia's doing.

"Hmhm," the mother nodded, taking a seat across from her son. "It's been bringing in quite the revenue, not to mention a food critic."

Ash almost dropped his hat as he removed it. A _food critic_? "Someone came to review _your_ food?" It was rare to have anyone famous or important in the outside world stroll into their little corner of reality, however it wasn't as if Delia's and the others' cooking didn't deserve to be glorified.

He soon sighed as Pikachu jumped into his lap, already cooing for some of the sugar cubes placed on the table for tea. But Ash absentmindedly dismissed his Pokémon's hunger pains, still flabbergasted over all the dramatic changes in just merely a year of his absence. "Sure looks like I missed a lot..."

His travels, badges, and competitions in leagues were definitely on the top of Ash's priority list. He couldn't remember a time when he hadn't dreamt of leaving his reclusive town to go out exploring the world and to see as many wondrous creatures as he could. However, now being a bit older, maybe even a tad wiser, he was starting to appreciate the smaller things in life and understand how good he had it before he left.

And all the memories he left behind.

Seeing her son shift in a guilty state, Delia reached out warmly for his hand. "Don't feel bad about it, Ash," she assured honestly. "You've been out sightseeing, battling- Living your dream!" How else could Delia sum it up? Since Ash could talk, she knew how much Pokémon meant to him, and how much he wanted his future career to revolve around the mysterious beings.

"We'll have plenty of time to catch up. And if you stick around_ longer_ than for a day or two," she continued, trying to lighten the mood as she placed a napkin in her lap, "you might not miss some of the action."

Her words of confidence performed the usual positive trick they did, quickly snapping Ash out of his discourage state and seeing Pikachu was chattering for the sugary treat.

The teenager's grin widened as he grabbed a small handful of sugar cubes.

Ash couldn't agree more with his mother.

* * *

"I still don't understand."

"I told you, I'm not doing this anymore."

_Since when?_ was Drake's initial thought.

And he could hardly take his eyes off of him. _Jayce_...he was really here.

Having his half-brother of five years older waltz to his home island sent an indescribable chill down Drake's spine. They had not seen each other in many years, only communicating rarely through the use of video phone, and even then the calls were sporadic. If anything, Jay usually sent the occasional letter and even if he did phone his little brother it would only be on his birthday or Christmas morning. Nothing more than that.

So to see him sitting beside him at Drake's favorite local bar, appearing so calm and to himself… Jay had aged a great deal since they last spoke. He had noticed his maturing when they talked over the phone, but finally seeing his older brother in person really showed how much he aged. Ten years could really change a person. Ten years on the road, on the _run_ for that matter. It wasn't as if Jay's physical features had worsened, just… changed. He had done something Drake never thought he would, which was letting his hair grow out. Thick wavy midnight locks struck a little above the mid-section of Jay's neck, and it looked as if he gained a bit more muscle mass to his upper body, probably from all the physical activity. Still, it could not compete with the guns Drake had on his arms. Not to mention, how tiredness was blindingly obvious in Jay's eyes, as if it had at last caught up with him. Maybe it was simply due to lack of sleep or food, but Drake had a feeling that the cause of Jay's haggard appearance was something else entirely.

Drake looked oddly at his brother, watching him slurp casually away on his alcoholic beverage. He was still trying to wrap his abrupt presence around his head. "Not doing _this_ anymore? I'm sorry, but have you forgotten _why _you've been doing this-"

"I've found a way out of this mess. Take a look."

As he watched Jay rummage through his pant pocket, Drake's mouth drooped into a confused frown. Why was he appearing so nonchalant, so serene about their encounter, his questions? After all, Jay's departure from Pallet had been a _huge _deal, and that was no understatement. Being caught in part of the predicament, and then listening to his older brother explain why he had to leave home, why he was acting so out of sorts- for Jay to just drop by Pummelo like there were no unresolved issues after all these years was beyond baffling to Drake. And he anticipated anxiously for an answer.

_Why would he come at a time like this? _

Then, without words the answer struck Drake.

Opening up his wallet, Jay shoved his fingers into a leather slot and slammed a card directly in front of his little brother. Drake leaned forward to get a closer look, and had to resist a loud gasp from flying out of his mouth. "Oh, my gosh!" He shook his head a couple of times with a few blinks, amazed by what was presented to him. Drake never dreamed he'd see one! An authentic one that was owned by someone he was close to on top of that. Related to boot!

Adjusting his voice, Drake shot his gaze back at his brother, bearing a silly, stupefied grin. He couldn't decide if he needed to focus on the card or Jay. "Jay, do you realize what you've just accomplished? This is history in the making! Y-you have officially earned the right to be the called the _greatest_ trainer of this decade, maybe even this century!-"

Jay sneered sarcastically, and then he took another gulp of his drink. "You're making me blush."

"This is amazing!" Drake continued, ignoring his older brother's remark. The bombshell was taking its time wearing off. "How did you manage to do this?"

"Honestly I don't know... It just sorta- happened," he summed up, now staring seriously into the half-drunken liquid. "After winning the Indigo League and defeating their Elite Four I thought, why not try winning them all? And somehow, it all worked out."

Somehow it _worked_?

Drake's overly joyful smile slipped back into a frown as he observed Jay casually continue to drink. Making that kind of grandiose achievement wouldn't happen overnight, nor because one 'just felt like it.' Then again, this was Jay who he was talking about, always managing to surpass fellow trainers without a logical explanation other than that he was _highly_ gifted. But to have the highest ranking title a Pokémon trainer could ever dream of reaching… Most would simply give up on the goal or drive themselves mad just attempting to make it come true. So many great trainers who had earned rights as champions failed in ever earning the title 'master'. But not this one.

Drake held his hand out. "Hold on a minute. You seriously just pursued this career that _thousands_ of trainers try to do daily just for kicks?"

Jay shrugged. "If you want to put it that way, sure. It was never my intention to become a master, but after a while I suppose I subconsciously dreamed of it. I mean, it was better use of my time than constantly being on the run from 'you know who'."

You know who indeed.

Drake received a shiver at the mention of the criminal, understanding fully as to why Jay would want to distract himself with something much more fulfilling and...positive.

"I guess you make a good point... Well, congrats!" he finally burst, seeing there was no reason to argue, even though a part of him found it baffling Jay earned the title on such pure luck with hardly any ambition. Still, this was _Jay_ who he was talking about. "A part of me isn't really surprised you pulled this off, then again-"

"It is usually an impossible goal to reach, especially by some thirty-five year old guy who was born and raised in a nowhere town called Pallet."

Drake cocked a smile. "You're the exception of the rule, Jay. Man, I just can't stop staring at this!" the trainer exclaimed once more, shaking his head in awe all over again. "I can't believe I'm holding a Pokémon Master's license, _seeing_ one for the first time!"

"It's the real deal, Drake. All it needs is a stamp of approval by Mr. Goodshow and I will officially be your superior." Jay looked over his shoulder cautiously, and eventually whipped back around in a low careful whisper. He had made that into a habit. "And will you keep your voice down?"

Drake was still stuck on the "I will be your superior" comment. "I don't think it works like that," he said, dismissing Jay's request. "And by the way, have you told anyone about this?"

It was only matter of time Drake asked that question. Jay knew that.

"You and Sam are the only ones who know," he answered. "The league told me to keep it hush-hush, but they said I could announce the news to only _close_ family members as long as it didn't get leaked out to the public."

It made sense, seeing there hadn't been a Pokémon Master in close to fifty years, and such a big announcement should be made during a ceremony of the trainer's home region without spoiling the surprise of the identity of the newly-crowned master.

Yet, Drake found it odd they allowed Jay to tell someone who wasn't exactly related by blood.

"Sam's not technically family-"

"He's close enough," Jay finished, his voice lowered.

Close enough... Close enough to be the substitute till he could reconcile with Delia and his other family members, if ever? Drake figured as much, seeing as he and Sam were the only ones who knew of the predicament. Yet, a part of him felt as if Delia should know, regardless of the situation.

"So that means Delia has no clue," he more so stated than asked, his brows dipping down.

"Now why on earth would I ring her up and tell her after being separated for nearly ten years, Drake?" retorted the newly acclaimed master, giving Drake an incredulous look. "I can just imagine how well that conversation would go."

"Well she's going to find out sooner or later when they hold the ceremony," Drake reminded evenly.

Sooner or later was right.

Time was certainly running out, and Jay hadn't even mentioned yet that the ceremony was to be held sometime in the middle of August, only giving him a few weeks to get there. And being already in the second week of July made him realize that all the more.

"You think I don't know that?" Jay countered. "I've already got a plan spinning in my head anyway. That's partially why I'm here to see you."

Immediately, Drake's face went pale. He wasn't seriously thinking- "Oh, no. Jay, don't tell me you want _me_ to tell her-"

Drake hadn't spoken to Delia in many years either, and being the spawn of an affair between Jay's father and his deceased mother of an islander, didn't make their lives all rosy and peachy. Sure Jay's mom accepted Drake through time and forgiveness, and rekindling happened between her and the boys' father- but it didn't make things any less awkward. And being the only relative knowing of Jay's whereabouts and for him to drop the bomb on his estranged sister-in-law as if it was not out of the ordinary, would be not only out of the blue, but highly uncomfortable. After Jay left Pallet, Drake didn't bother coming around much. He never made his existence known to his half-nephew and since he was always so flaky, Delia never sought for his company.

Whether people accepted him and wanted him to participate more often in family get-togethers, Drake never felt like he fully belonged. Like he was just the thorn in everyone's side.

Sometimes in his eyes, it was best for no one to know of his scandalous existence.

But none of them saw it that way.

"No, no, no! I've got a much better role for you," Jay quickly clarified. His eyes then trailed over to the bartender, who was busy polishing glasses with a cloth. The trainer then looked down at his drink. He needed a refill if he was going to have to explain all of this.

"Hey," he soon called, capturing the worker's attention. The burly bartender stomped over and loomed across the counter, though his tough guy demeanor didn't scare Jay as he casually held up the empty glass in his drink. "Get me another one of these, will ya? And leave off the stupid umbrella."

Whether he knew his remark would tick the bartender off or not, Jay did not care, and saw the worker hold back a roll of his eyes and growl as he snatched the glass away. "Sure thing, buddy," the man replied, repressing the urge to lose his temper. No one paid him enough to deal with picky costumers. "Not like you have the right to order me around. Like you're the Pokémon Master or something for God's sake..."

The slip of his tongue was easily caught by Drake's ear, and whether Jay heard it or not was not shown forth on his face as vividly as his. The last thing either one of them needed was to be booted out of the bar due to a ridiculous order of the removal on an umbrella.

"_Please_ do not get us kicked out of this bar," Drake pathetically begged, eyeing the bartender cautiously. "It's the least prone to attract violent loudmouth alcoholics and bad music."

Jay snorted and wrinkled his forehead in disagreement. "You call this music _good_? I swear if I hear another twang from that ukulele the twitching in my eyebrows will become hideously noticeable..."

Same old Jay yet somehow... different.

"You've- changed," Drake suddenly commented, watching his brother curiously.

Swaying his head over steadily, Jay raised a brow with a peculiar eye. "A good or bad kind of change?"

Drake's smile persisted with a calming nod. "Good."

He seemed more- confident in himself. He didn't know why, he just sensed it. Though Drake supposed ten years on the run would force you to have a little faith, a blinding confidence and strength in yourself. Even when sometimes it caused more trouble than good.

"Well if that's how you feel about my maturity growth, then maybe you won't mind accompanying me."

As he blinked back in confusion Drake's smiled faded. What on earth was Jay talking about?

"Accompany you? To where?"

"I've snagged us a plane ride to Fuchsia City that will be setting off in roughly four hours. From there, we have to travel to the Indigo Plateau in time for the ceremony, and hopefully I will be able to gain the league's trust and fill them in on-" he paused so abruptly that Drake wondered if Jay lost his train of thought. But that was not the case at all.

"Operation TR," Jay at last whispered as he threw a 'you know the code' expression.

And realizing what the code meant automatically sent Drake into a puzzled frenzy. "Wait, hold on minute!" the trainer urged, raising his hands up. "You're throwing too much at me at once!"

"Was I not speaking slowly enough?" Jay snorted with a hint of annoyance. "Ultimately, I'm hoping the league will get me out of this jam. Messing with any member of the Elite Four or the league itself would be a risk Team Rocket might not even want to take. If they believe me, there's no way the authorities won't be involved. They'd _have_ to track them down."

"And you just magically hope this will all wash away and everything will be right as rain?" Drake asked, still stunned by the plan.

"Basically," he replied. "I know it's a stretch, but it's the best option I've got. And to be perfectly honest... I'm tired of running, Drake," Jay finally sighed, fully showing his immense physical fatigue through his voice. "I want to settle down again, have a job, have a _home_, be with my family..."

Jay fell silent for a few moments, contemplating quietly to himself. Then, a bittersweet smile escaped from his lips. "You know I saw his Indigo League match?" he said at last, gazing back at Drake. There was an uneasy shakiness in his blue eyes. And Drake's shook back. "I stopped watching after that because it became too painful for me. All that I've missed- all the hurt that I've caused him... God, that was just six years ago and I can only imagine how much he's matured since then, but seeing him... Knowing I left a six year old boy who morphed into a ten year old made me really see just how much time had passed," Jay continued, looking up, and the smile he once bared was now gone. It was more of a- disappointed and shameful frown.

"Now an additional six years has been added to that distance between us... I miss him, Drake. I miss him _miserably_."

Drake couldn't even begin to imagine. He, himself, was not a father nor even attempted staying in a long-time relationship. While the highly-acclaimed trainer was showered with many gifts, Drake was never great with familial connections. But as gruff and stoic as Jay could be at times, he knew with all his heart that his older brother _was_ a damn good father and husband. After all, hadn't the sacrifice he made been enough proof to justify that?

It must have been pure torture for Jay to see his son, and know there was no way he could safely make contact with him.

"I need to get back to them," Jay declared, his expression morphing back into a confident one. "I can't do this anymore- I just can't. That's why I need your help."

_His_ help. It was a rare occasion for Jay to ask for someone else's help, especially from Drake. However, as permissible as requesting for his little brother's services was, a twinge of uncertainty couldn't help but ride inside of Drake as the proposal wafted in his mind. He wasn't sure whether to say yes or no.

The Indigo Plateau was a long ways away from where they were currently and imagining the various tolls he would take if he agreed to travel back there with Jay made his head spin with great nausea. Heading to Fuchsia by plane was logical, and taking a ferry from there to Cinnabar Island where they would eventually reach the back of Pallet Town, behind the mountains... But Drake assumed that his brother wanted to avoid that quick route altogether considering he left Pallet for a reason. That meant going the long way; heading up through Vermillion, Saffron, and into Cerulean, then right into Mt. Moon... That would be one draining and treacherous journey. Not to mention, how many exhausting weeks it would take to trek to their destination, and with Team Rocket most likely on their trail the entire time...

It wouldn't surprise Drake at all if Giovanni got wind of what Jay was up to, and imagining the result of it made him nearly black out.

But what other choice did his older brother have?

Jay was tired, clearly wiped out with hardly any gusto to make another tedious adventure happen. He wasn't a teenager anymore, filled with abundant youth and exuberance. He was a man now, a man who had proven he could take care of himself in the most dire and dangerous circumstances possible, but had been so rundown from it he wanted to wave a white flag and surrender. This wasn't what he was supposed to be doing with his time; this wasn't how he was supposed to be living his life! Drake knew being a trainer was a big part of Jay, yet being a father and husband was an even bigger and more important portion.

But what was the guarantee anyway that this would work? As much as he wanted to see Jay back home and for this whole issue to be resolved, was it honestly worth the risk? Was their _safety _worth it? Was it worth wasting his vacation time? His _sanity_?

There was a heavy amount of indecision riding inside of Drake, fighting with his inner self. He felt selfish for not being willing to share his only available free time; _then again_, this idea could turn out to be a _real_ trap he'd regret in the end. And did Drake even have any energy left to deal with ruthless thugs like Team Rocket? Plus all the stress and anxiety? This was all so last minute, too.

Adjusting his throat, Drake captured Jay's gaze with his own: a serious one that would not tolerate any negotiations. His mind was made up. There were too many bad factors, and he was too stubborn to see the other way. "Listen Jay, I've got a flight in less than_ three_ hours to board to Valencia Island. I'm not going to miss my chance for some quality _alone_ time, my _vacation _time, to go some crazy adventure!"

Jay just stared at him for a moment, wearing that poker face that Drake could never crack. He couldn't tell whether his older brother was upset with his definite decision or not. Jay was always gifted at hiding his emotions, for better or for worse. Every time he sat or stood pondering to himself, wallowing in his own concerns or dreams, Drake was never quite able to figure what Jay was exactly thinking about.

Keeping to himself was something Drake believed to be a learned behavior. But now more than ever, it appeared as if Jay was born with his reclusive nature.

At last, Drake's startled expression broke as Jay finally released a shrug. "Suit yourself."

Acting like his little brother's decline didn't matter, he leaped up from his chair and left the payment on the counter for the bartender. From there Jay shoved his hands into his pant pockets, turning to Drake, who was still seated. "But you know in the back of your mind you will be beating yourself up for not coming along. Especially if something _happens_ to me," Jay managed to smirk.

Drake just huffed, and cocked a sarcastic eye. "You've survived this long on your own."

"It was worth a shot. Have a nice vacation, Drake."

A casual wave leaped from his fingertips as Jay began to stroll away, once again not showing as if it all mattered to him. Yet this time Drake felt that it did, and he didn't need Jay to pout or get angry with his refusal to realize that.

Swiveling back in his seat, Drake starred into his barely touched drink. Thinking. Long and hard about everything. Weighing out the pros versus the cons, and what was more important. His precious vacation time or a chance for his older brother to have his life back.

He should have thought about it more carefully before he opened his big mouth.

It was the perfect opportunity for Jay to strike back, there was no denying that. However, was it really as flawless and likely to work as it sounded? Drake didn't think so, and he was surprised his usually methodical brother was confident enough to jump on the bandwagon. Taking a step back and imagining himself in Jay's shoes did change the trainer's perspective somewhat- laying out the whole scenario, trying to comprehend the feelings of anger, sadness, and loss his brother had lived with, was _still _living with... Then there was the reminder of two souls who had been forced to live in darkness, and believe in only the worst of the man who 'betrayed them.' To think of the burden and the guilt Jay had to be carrying... Maybe his desperation and riskiness made- _sense_.

And _maybe _Drake was being a tad selfish. His needs were petty compared to Jay's after all...

At that moment, he wanted to groan so badly. Jay didn't even bother making him feel adamant about his decision, and here was Drake, ready to turn himself in for being a horrible brother. Looking at the whole picture with a clear mind- there was no other answer but the one Drake didn't like.

But he accepted it, anyway.

Not much time passed before Drake jumped out of his seat, hurrying to the front door of the bar. If they made out of this safe and sound, Jay was going to owe him big time. Heck, maybe the Orange League Division would give him extra vacation time if this mission pulled off without a hitch!

Swinging the door wide open, Drake found Jay already wandering to the sidewalk. "Jay!" he called out, rushing down the steps. "Jay, wait."

Drake's holler worked, stopping Jay in his tracks and soon he beamed over his shoulder. "So you've changed your mind, huh?"

He figured he'd crack.

Drake's eyes narrowed and he folded his arms. "If I come along with you, there are going to be some terms."

Terms. Jay expected as much.

"Shoot," the master said.

"One: The moment we reach the Indigo Plateau and I _know_ you're safe and sound, I _will_ relax for the rest of my well-spent vacation on Valencia Island." If there was any left at all for that matter. That thought brought a cringe to Drake, but he shrugged it off as he persisted assertively. "Two: I'm _not_ getting involved in your martial issues. It's your and Delia's business, and if I must vouch for your absence as legitimate, then I will. But that's _it_. I'm no therapist who can mend these sort of- estranged relationships."

A scoff was returned as Jay's cheeky smile grew. "You just don't want her mad at you."

"And _three_: God forbid if we somehow_ die_ from all of this," he carried on, now pursuing the worst case scenario, "I would prefer not being laid to rest in the annex with Aunt Maude. I know I'm only 'half' of the 'pristine Ketchum line,' but I will not be placed there. Not over _my dead_ _body_. And there is no pun intended on that last part!" Drake threw in hurriedly, before his older brother had a chance to make some wise-crack remark.

Great Aunt Maude was one of the few disliked members of the Ketchum family, for her bad jokes and little spark of wit brought that on promptly. Maude never quite comprehended that her jests were terrible. As Jay's mother would sum up so kindly in five words: "She was a complete idiot."

To Drake's surprise, Jay simply shook his head with a sigh. The last term sure wasn't what he was suspecting. "Your ghostly self will have to take that one up with Mom," his brother said, with a shrug. "Though at the rate I'm going, I'm sure I'm going to be the one sharing that less desirable resting place with crazy Aunt Maude."

* * *

Ash kept himself occupied while he waited for the day to draw to a close.

He kept tabs on the front desk, while Delia gave extra support to Michelle in the kitchen, and reprieve Leah of standing for so long. Though as the hours drew closer to evening, Leah shooed Delia and Ash out, telling them to go on and head for her house for dinner, and that she and Michelle would arrive in an hour or so to join them. So the mother and son duo left them to their own devices, and were more than thrilled to exit the business for the day.

Not to mention, Ash was still electrified enough to find elation in seeing his grandfather Ernest again. His grandparents' cherished farm had greatly influenced his love and respect for Pokémon, and he was always fascinated with his findings on the slice of Heaven every time he willingly (or sometimes unwillingly) traveled across the dirt road to lend a hand.

Another burst of warm fuzzy feelings of home soared through the trainer as he and Delia took their first step up the Parkers' front porch. Everything looked the same on the outside. Wide open fields with Tauros predominately roaming free, the barn for the Rapidash looking as rustic and red as ever, the Miltank slowing down for the day before crawling into their hay ridden beds, and the front door with a loose hinge that Leah had been pestering Ernest for years to fix…

Everything looked the same yet- something felt a little different inside Ash as he gawked at his surroundings.

He brushed them off rather quickly, though, as he and his mother invited themselves in, and what he was about to discover would truly throw him for another loop.

"Hey, look who it is!"

"Hi, Ash!"

Ash's mouth dropped open as Delia closed the door behind them, stupefied to see the person standing before him working away on dinner.

"Dani?-"

Before he could delve into asking why his cousin was in the neighborhood, Ash was smothered to the floor by a pair of elderly Jolteon, who even for their age still had enough vigor to greet him with full-hearted barks and licks. "Hey, you guys!" He laughed faintly to himself as he pet the old mutts, Pikachu just barely balancing on his shoulder from all the commotion. "This is some welcoming party! I guess you both really missed me!"

Ash knew for a fact that he was missed dearly by his family, but he didn't think they'd all (including the family's pet Pokémon) give him a big "welcome home" considering this wasn't the first time he ventured away from Pallet.

The nudging and pawing Ash received from the electric dogs didn't last long as a pair of familiar feet stomped over to him, commanding the Jolteon to heal. "Rex, Fly! Get off of him!"

They hurriedly obeyed without resistant by Ernest's command, and soon the gruff farmer lent out a hand to his fallen grandson.

"Uh thanks, Grandpa," Ash said, rising to his feet.

"No problem, sport," Ernest replied, straightening out his back. "You look like you're doin' well."

"Thanks, you too. I wasn't accepting such a welcome, and I wasn't accepting Dani either," the trainer added, his eyes peeling over in astonishment at the girl.

Dani was two years older than him, and while they were in the same age range he always found her to be more of an adult than an actual teenager. The only thing that made him feel older than her was that he was now taller. But intellectually that was another story altogether. Overall, Dani was a big sister in a sense, someone he could talk to when she and her mom came to visit, and while Gary and the other neighborhood boys were giving him grief for, well, just- everything.

But Dani never minded being a role model for him; actually, she quite liked helping others and took pride in carrying herself with both humility and respect. Her hair had grown out to shoulder length, the wavy lavender lockets she earned from Leah's side gracing around her face, but her smile and bubbly voice hadn't changed.

"Neither were we when she first came. But isn't it nice? Now I don't have to worry about fixin' a meal when your grandma's workin' late."

_That_ was a blessing to all.

"Grandma called and told me you were here, so I started working away on dinner!" Dani exclaimed from the kitchen, leaning over the counter to get a glimpse of Ash.

Ash's eyes widened at her. "Whoa, you made dinner?" The teenager journeyed over quickly, witnessing the display of food Dani had prepared all on her own. Green beans with garlic, roasted potatoes and carrots, and even a whole roast! Granted, it was small, but it sure was a big step in Dani's attempt at cooking. Ash shot a wrinkled forehead while Pikachu sniffed the fragrant air in delight. "Since when do you know how to cook?"

"Since your mom showed me," she answered, now grabbing glasses from one of the top cabinets.

Ash's expression only furthered to dramatic levels. "You've been hanging out with _Mom_?"

"Only on occasion when I come to visit. Now you and Aunt Delia go ahead and sit down," she commanded, more than wanting them to take a rest and for her to serve up her hard work. "I've got almost everything ready."

At the waving of her hand, Ash's eyes shifted to the table. Everything was set. Plates, napkins, silverware, and a subtle floral table cloth lying right underneath it all. Dani sure went to town to make everything look well presented.

Filling up a lined basket, Dani stretched her reach towards her grandfather. "Grandpa, would you do the honors of carrying the rolls in?"

Ernest smiled back humbly, playing along. "It would be my honor."

And it would be Ash's honor to take the first helping.

The teenager eye's glimmered as the rolls were settled near him and Delia's end of the table. If there was one thing Ash hadn't grown out of it was a vivacious appetite, and he proved so by snatching a serving of the homemade bread.

Ash tore a piece off and popped it into his mouth. "So how long have you've been here, Dani?"

Dani slipped a smile and roll of her eyes, knowing what caused his muffled words. "A couple of weeks. I was wrapping up with some courses in Viridian."

"What courses?"

Dani made a face. "Didn't your mom tell you?"

It was then that both teenagers swept their attention over to a dazed Delia. Feeling their eyes upon her, she broke out of her quiet train of thought, and shook her head. "Oh, I guess it slipped my mind! Honey, Dani's been training to be a Pokémon breeder."

"Really?" Ash raised his eyebrows. "That's amazing! But I thought you just wanted to be a trainer?"

"I did, but over this last year I started to realize that I enjoyed raising Pokémon more so than actually battling," Dani began to explain, handing both of them filled glasses of chilled water. "I mean, I'm a decent battler, but I felt as if taking care of Pokémon and learning about them was more of my calling. You know it's like this- inner feeling you get. I don't know," she shrugged, struggling with her words. "It's hard to explain."

Even if it was difficult for Dani to relay her reasoning of switching up her career to others, Ash understood. Trial and error was a part of anything one did, and experimenting in the Pokémon field came with that possibility. He had known plenty of other trainers who changed their dream after coming to grips that they had a greater fondness for something else. Brock, being one that stood out in his head immediately. Though he himself never thought he'd ever steer away from battling. At least he thought so.

"No, I get it," Ash said honestly. "I'm happy for you. I think you'll do great as a breeder."

"Thanks. And I've heard you haven't been doing too bad yourself."

Her sly eye made him laugh a little. Delia must have been boasting about him again. Harmless as it was, and he admittedly_ liked_ the attention now and again, he did find it kind of embarrassing when Delia gushed over him. Then again, he was so used to it by now he did his best to overlook her innocent, motherly tendencies. After all, Ash was her "little boy."

Ash flushed his embarrassment away. "Oh yeah, actually I- Huh?!" Though he lost his train of thought promptly. Emerging from the back door near the kitchen appeared none other than Mr. Mime, holding a broom that looked like it just suffered from a few vigorous sweeps. Apparently, he was cleaning the back porch, but why on earth was he at Ash's grandparents' house? "Hold on!" the teenager shouted, gawking at the Pokémon in confusion. "W-what's Mr. Mime doing here?"

"I asked the same question."

All their gazes were focused on Ernest, who was glaring with great hostility at the mime dusting off his feet on the doormat. He never liked Mr. Mime, and he never would. No matter how genuinely helpful and friendly the creature was.

He was just plain- _annoying_.

"Oh Dad, stop!" Delia ordered sharply, flashing irritated chestnut eyes at him. Ernest simply in return just huffed and mumbled something incoherent to their ears, and Delia didn't see the point in starting a fruitless argument that was really over well- nothing.

So she drew her attention back to a still lost and inquisitive Ash. "You see, Ash, Grandma's been so busy at the inn that I offered Mimie to come over and pick up some of the slack around the house. Of course, she has to keep reminding Rex and Fly that he's not an_ intruder_."

As dense as Ash could be at times, he didn't need to ponder over that one to know whose fault that was.

"I beg to differ," Ernest grumbled, carrying more of the finished dishes over to the table.

Ash blinked at his mother momentarily, processing the news. "Oh, that makes sense. But what about you, Mom? Don't you still need the help?"

There was a twinkle in Delia's eyes, and the rascally smile seeping from her lips only spelt bad news for him. There was a catch. "I already have that taken care of. Since Mr. Mime is helping Grandma, I thought a certain sixteen year old wouldn't mind picking up the slack around the house _he _lives in from time to time."

Ash already promised Delia he'd stay for a while when they were having lunch, and a couple of weeks was the compromise. But after being home for just a few hours and seeing all the changes, all the faces he missed- maybe he wanted to stay _longer_ than just two weeks. However, the chores now made his stay _very_ unappealing.

Just thinking about all the extra work Mr. Mime did around the house and outside in the yard…Man, was Ash going need to install his allowance again- or better yet, take that part-time job Greta had been offering for quite some time. That would do the trick.

Ash released a nervous grin as he stuffed his cheeks with another bite of a roll. "Uh- we'll see."

* * *

**A/N:**

And there you have chapter one folks! There should be no surprise how long my chapters can get, and just be ready that there are more of those lengths to come. As I have been with every other installment, I am committed to finishing this fanfic whether it takes a year or more. Unless of course serious issue arises- then I would let you all know. Though, I cannot promise you it will be updated as often as my works have in the past. More has been added to my plate, but I will try my best to get updates out to you all. :)

I promise the pace will pick up shortly, and that we will delve more into Ash's feelings on traveling again or staying home for a little while. ;) Plus, a whole slew of familiar faces are on their way! Just wait and see!

Thank you all for taking the time to read the first chapter and as always, reviews are very much appreciated. :)


	2. No Place Like Home

**Author's Note:**

Here it is my devoted readers! I'm so sorry it took longer than usual. Since I posted the first chapter, I've been seriously swamped and barely have enough time to myself. This was written in between the free time I did have, and I'm afraid that I won't have much time to be on here regularly the next couple of months with school starting up. Of course I will update when I can (and will do my best to post once a month), but I don't really have time to be on here much. Sorry guys. But college comes first!

Thank you though to all who reviewed chapter one and for sticking through my series. It was great to hear your feedback, and I relished it all. :)

Now please enjoy chapter two! I promise things will start moving along shortly, but like my past works, I don't like to rush my work. I like to make it flow evenly with a buildup of drama and action that is logical with a pace. Even if that means long chapters, and a total of twenty-plus.

**ALSO:** If there are any minor spelling and/or grammar issues, they will be corrected once I have **COMPLETED** the story. I suffer from continual headaches, and sometimes, I unfortunately miss these errors. Please forgive me.

**DISCLAIMER: **_Pokémon_ belongs to Satoshi Tajiri and _Jane Eyre_ belongs to Charlotte Bronte. However, my oc's belong to me.

* * *

**Sunlight's Return**

**Chapter 2**

_"No Place Like Home"_

The seat Drake had Randy snag for him was nothing compared to what the league had in store for his brother.

First class seats they were, of the highest quality, and the best food an airline could offer. However, the higher class of seating didn't change the atmosphere too drastically. Drake made several attempts to dose off, but the constant wailing of a child behind them and the bickering of the toddler's wealthy parents on how the husband accidentally bought tickets for the wrong island and when they would get home they would iron out the mess and evict that co-worker he was secretly seeing-

It reminded the trainer too much of home.

Jay on the other hand gave up sleeping all together, and stared long and hard at the back of the seat in front of him. He was wearing that expression again; that gaze that was made of the hardest metal, like a shield a gallant warrior would use in a great battle to protect himself from the scorching flames of a dragon.

God only knew what he was thinking about.

"How much longer do you think it'll be till we land?" Drake piped up, his eyes vividly deprived of rest.

Jay kept staring ahead. "Don't know. But if we make a stop somewhere, I hope _they _get off," his tone implying heavily of the people behind them.

Unless the abhorrent couple's destination was at the bottom of the ocean, the brothers would be stuck with them till they arrived in Fuchsia. Which was hopefully drawing close, considering all other close landings were long gone.

"I think we passed all the islands," Drake noted somberly.

Jay grimaced. "Wonderful."

Silence fell upon them again, and Drake was back to twiddling his thumbs awkwardly, not knowing what to do or say. It wasn't as if Jay was trying to strike up conversation. Then again, their lack of a goodnight's rest probably wasn't helping. Not to mention all the running around and staying awake his older brother did on a regular basis. It was no wonder Jay was so cranky and intolerable of his surroundings.

So recognizing that, Drake tiredly attempted to lighten the mood. "So... what was it like?" he asked, trying to form his question to where it made halfway sense. "You know, meeting all the Elite Four members and the attention. You've hardly talked about it."

Jay's focus finally broke and trailed over to Drake with a slight shift in his serious expression. "It was fine. I mean, they're just like you and me, Drake. You out of all people should understand that."

"I _know_." Sounding like a rabid fan was not what the acclaimed trainer meant at all. "What I'm trying to say is- do you feel any different now that you're- _one_ of them?"

One of them. It honestly hadn't fully sunk into Jay's thick skull.

He didn't feel any more special than anyone else; though one could suppose that was the humble streak, the introvert he was showing through. He did know he was capable of being a decent trainer, that much he was aware of regardless to his ability. But to be the very best- he never liked to boast. And when he did, it was done jokingly. Never once in his childhood did anyone in his family ever make him _feel _important, that his best was good enough, or that his gifts deserved to be mentioned and to have a shot at a full bloom…outside sources: people he befriended, admired, loved- they were the ones who made him feel worthwhile.

_She_ made him feel that way.

"If you mean has my ego inflated, then no, not really," Jay at last answered. He was now looking out the clouded small window, with his elbow propped on an arm rest, watching the massive downy clouds with the return of the unreadable gaze. "If anything, this has been a blessing in disguise."

Drake understood that perfectly.

Ash and Delia were always on Jay's mind, and finally gaining an opportunity to see them again, possibly ending this wild goose chase thanks to his skills as a trainer, was something Drake knew Jay cherished over the damn title. Even if it was a _huge _honor. His heart was beginning to swell with excitement and longing, but his head told him otherwise, shoving down the hopes with his methodical tendencies. If Jay had learned anything, it was not to get his hopes up. At least not too high.

But he could always dream.

"Do you know how many of them we should be watching out for?" Drake suddenly asked, changing the conversation. That question had been bothering him since they boarded the plane. But it wasn't as if Jay was suspiciously looking around every corner as if someone was following them.

"A good dozen," Jay answered, comprehending what his brother was insinuating. "But I haven't had a run-in in weeks."

Drake lowered his eyebrows. His stomach did a somersault out of genuine nerves of worry. "What do you think that means?"

"Probably that they lost my trail. Don't know. But I'm not going to hold my breath," Jay said, his eyes shifting into another unreadable look. Though Drake didn't need his facial expressions to give him clues.

"They'll come and find us," his brother continued. "Just you wait."

* * *

That morning felt more refreshing to Delia than it had in months.

She supposed it was thanks to a certain sixteen year old sleeping the morning away upstairs; her smile sprang with motherly joy at the thought of her son's visit.

_He really has grown up, _she thought, flipping over the final flapjacks she whipped up for breakfast. _It feels just like yesterday when he left. I can't believe how fast time has gone by!_

Time certainly had flown by, so fast it almost made Delia cry bittersweet tears. The mother could still imagine her son eagerly waiting for his breakfast, wolf it down, and hurry outside to explore the nearby streams for flopping Magikarp. Well, Delia could bet her money that Ash would still do that, only he wouldn't go looking for Magikarp but Pokémon much more exciting. Though, he obviously still had a habit of sleeping in lazily, and his insistence of keeping his hair an unruly cut. But she wouldn't want him any other way. Those attributes made Ash him, and made him magnetic to all. He was, Delia thought, still her sweet, sensitive, and caring boy she raised. But as they conversed over dinner last night... Delia had noticed something.

Ash had matured.

It wasn't a total transformation overnight, nor was his change in behavior bad. It was actually- pleasing. He seemed more settled, less insecure, and with that, more willing to share his concerns. Ash was definitely more comfortable in his own skin. Delia had known good and plenty on how difficult it was for Ash in school, focusing on his homework, and then of course Gary adding to more of the drama... She was glad that they were both able to find some peace, to move on in a sense even still with that empty presence in their life. Delia would be lying if she claimed it wasn't challenging...but it wasn't impossible either. Both she and Ash had proven that. And hearing from her son on his grand travels, seeing him face to face – it made Delia feel twice as stronger.

Because she knew she had a purpose to keep going.

However, Delia had to admit she was feeling a tad lonely around the house. Oh, the bouts of enduring such a depressing feeling came around on certain times of the year more than others, and it had become more and more natural for the woman to live alone, yet-

It was beyond wonderful to have Ash home like old times, making it all the more important to savor their moments together. And just like the old times, it was only a matter of time before the scent of breakfast would waft through the house and straight through the crack between Ash's bedroom door and the hallway floor.

And for him to appear at the end of the staircase.

"Hey, are those pancakes I smell?" the woman heard her son say in the living room, followed through with a loud yawn.

"_Blueberry_ pancakes," Delia informed, smiling over her shoulder.

She could see he had just woken up, having a head full of bed-hair and still clothed in his pajamas. Pikachu too appeared tired as he slumped himself slothfully on Ash's shoulder, still in the process of shaking off the morning haze. Though the mouse wasn't given much time, for his trainer bounded beside his mother excitedly out of his drunken slumber walk, letting his nostrils take in the full scent of the fruit-filled treat. It was clear they must have had a restful night of sleep from their sudden rebound of liveliness, for Ash and even Pikachu's soft snores could not hide from Delia's keen ears during the night. And now here they were, both drooling over the food before them.

"Whoa, thanks Mom!" Ash exclaimed, already grabbing the plate Delia laid out for him on the counter. "But uh, you don't have to go to all this trouble."

Delia's smiled widened at her son's consideration. "I know, honey, but I wanted to. After all, you're still my little man-"

"Ah, c'mon Mom!" he suddenly groaned like a typical teenager. "Do you _have_ to call me that?"

Delia couldn't help but burst out a chuckle. "I'm sorry, honey. It's just you're my baby. My _only_ baby."

"Well, could you at least call me your big man?"

It might not have made the nickname sound less stupid, but Ash would have at least preferred to be treated the age he actually was.

"I won't call you that till you get a car and have a job," his mother retorted playfully, serving up the final pancakes onto a plate she had covered with a cloth to keep warm. "Which I don't think either is going to happen any time soon."

Ash had other ideas. He had been thinking about driving- maybe not a job, but cruising in a sweet ride sure would be a bonus. Just as big of a bonus as having a scrumptious pancake breakfast.

"_Grandpa_ said he'd teach me how to drive-"

"And believe me, you_ don't_ want him as your teacher," Delia hastily interrupted, turning off the burner and placing the hot skillet on a cool one. "Take it from someone who_ did_ have him as one."

Ash caught on to this quickly, trying to imagine his mom as a sixteen year old girl and Ernest with a full head of hair. From what he could gather, it probably wasn't a pretty picture, considering it involved a short-tempered Ernest and a ditzy Delia, with only winning the Pallet Town Fair with her prized Miltank, Raspberry, on her mind as well as what shade of lipstick she should wear on her next date night. Ash knew how much Ernest hated it when Delia refused to sell her marketable heifer or when the fantasizing of Jay distracted her so much she ended up accidentally denting the fender of his truck. But _he_ wouldn't get that easily distracted. Not about Pokémon or girls... Or at least he hoped.

Finally, Ash spoke. "He cussed and yelled a lot, didn't he?" he deduced more so than questioned.

Delia nodded with a sigh. "Like always." It probably didn't help, though, that Delia had to learn with a stick-shift and a truck that decided to shut off in the middle of the road- thankfully, a not-so-busy road. Nevertheless, that was something she didn't want her son to go through. "But don't worry Ash, I'll teach you soon enough. Actually, if you decide to stay a little longer we could go out for a few drives around town."

"Really?" Ash's eyes widened eagerly. "That would be great, Mom!" Delia was definitely not one for hollering; after all, she had the patience of a saint. And as long as the childish pet names wouldn't be used while he was driving, then there was no reason to refuse. Then again, staying longer in Pallet meant- "But do I still have to do chores, too?"

He wasn't going to get out of work _that_ easily.

"Oh course, silly," Delia retorted, though it wasn't her intention to spoil all of Ash's fun. "But don't fret, you will have plenty of time to train or do whatever you want." Switching her gaze from Ash taking his stacked plate to the table, Delia fixated on the clock pinned on the wall above the kitchen table. Time was already getting away from the hardworking mother.

Delia's smile shrank, but she kept it all the same. "Now I'm sorry to cut this short, but I've gotta run off to work. And speaking of chores..." Her eyes lingered back to the pile of dirty dishes in the sink. Then her sweet smile grew sheepishly. "Would you mind cleaning up the kitchen for me before you go to Prof. Oak's?"

Ash sighed. He figured as much. "Sure, Mom." There was no point in arguing. It was the least he could do after the nice surprise she had made for his already rumbling gut.

Sweeping by, Delia reached for her purse dangling on one of the dining table chairs. "You and Pikachu enjoy."

"Thanks." Ash's fingers reached excitedly for his healthy helping of pancakes. "I'll meet you at the inn later," the teenager said, loading his plate.

"Okay. Have a good morning, sweetie!"

Ash caught his mother's wave with a similar goodbye motion in return as she reached the front door.

"You too. Bye."

And so, the door clicked shut. Even with the dishes needing a good cleansing, Ash was more than appreciative to have a hardy breakfast that he wouldn't always get on the road. Especially when he wasn't with his traveling companions- Brock or Cilan in particular. Besides, as amazing as their cooking was, it was still nothing like Delia's. Not that hers was "top-notch" but because the comfort food truly brought a level of exceptional dining that no one else could master. The taste, the smell, the presentation- it all reminded Ash of home and what it felt like _to be_ home again. No one but his mother could master that. Looking at his pancakes slapped with a thin slice of melting butter on top, Ash soon realized he had missed this feeling for a long time.

How pleasant it was to be still, to be in a place that was a sanctuary to him.

With a relaxed expression, Ash's eyes traveled to his stacked plate. From there, he gleamed at Pikachu, who had jumped off his shoulder cueing his master that his bowl on floor was in need of being refilled. Instead, Ash formed a cheeky grin. "You don't want pokechow, do ya, buddy?" he asked, grabbing one of the flabby pieces of carbs and soon crouching.

Pikachu's eyes lit up as Ash dangled the food in front of him. Then, Ash's sparkled mischievously. "You want _pancakes_."

* * *

What Ash didn't foresee, though, as he went about his merry way, was that three pairs of eyes were peering at him through the kitchen window. The figures camouflaged themselves cleverly in Delia's perfectly-trimmed shrubs, and began gushing at the teenager's mouthwatering meal.

"Ooo, Pancakes! I could go for some right now-"

"James, focus!"

The firm slap on the back of the head broke James out his fixated gaze, though he shot his partner-in-crime a sharp look. "Well, excuse me if we haven't eaten in three days!" he griped, rubbing his now sore noggin as he landed on his behind. "Don't act as if you're not hungry too, Jess."

"Of course I'm starving!" the magenta haired woman groaned. "I'm not only starving for food, but beauty rest, as well! Look at my face!" she continued dramatically, placing her hands on her cheeks. "I swear I'm getting wrinkles!"

"Wouldn't matta if ya got all da sleep in da world," their feline companion snorted. "Ya'd still look da same."

Jessie formed a glare on cue, gritting her teeth as her hands morphed into clenched fists. "Would you like to be turned into the boss's personal throw rug, you mangy fur ball?"

"It's not as if you twos wouldn't be mounted on dis wall," Meowth shrugged, used to Jessie's sudden life-altering threats.

"Meowth does have a point, Jessie," James dared to throw in, his eyes gazing glumly down at the grass beneath them. "We haven't caught a single Pokémon! Not even on our entire trip following the twerp back home! Oh, I just don't want to even think about going back there," he soon declared, his eyes shaking as they lingered up, implying the mountains beyond the town. Where they were _supposed_ to report back. "There will be shouting, and insults, and possible projectiles being thrown at us-"

"No need to fear, you two," Jessie suddenly reassured, regaining her confidence. "I've got a few tricks up my sleeve before we have to report back to the boss."

"And how is dis plan goin' to pan out?" Meowth asked sourly. "Because all I smell is failure."

Failure and their own stench. They were in desperate need of hot showers. Especially after trying to follow Ash back to Pallet through a rain storm and ending up in the middle of a mud slide. Even without trying, that oblivious twerp always managed to throw a wrench into their plans. And in this case, in their hair. Jessie, in particular, still had dirt-clods in her long, luxurious locks. And she wasn't through complaining about it, either.

"We'll start smelling victory and maybe even _money."_

"Money?" James repeated, blinking up at Jessie. "How are we going to get any of that? You just said we aren't going back to Headquarters-"

"I don't mean from the boss. I _mean_ from the twerp's mom."

"His mom?" Meowth perked up.

James blinked again. "I don't quite follow."

What did Delia have to do with any of this? Last time James checked, he deduced Jessie couldn't stand being around the twerp's mom. She was, in the simplest way to explain, annoying to the female Rocket grunt, though her being usually out to lunch was convenient for them when needing to ambush the twerp and his friends. Still, her sickeningly sweet personality was equal to something of the "Sugar Plum Fairy" or a princess who could call upon animals with one sweet call of her soprano voice. Something that screamed damsel in distress, and Jessie wasn't the kind of woman who needed a man to save her from harm with her good looks to persuade him- though she had to admit it would be nice. To be held in a man's arms with a promising gaze of commitment...

Focusing on the task at hand she had worked on the last couple of days, Jessie started to explain. "James, you and I will pose as workers at that stupid little inn of hers for a couple of weeks."

"And what will we exactly gain from all of this?" he dared to ask.

"Honest to goodness cash _and_ Pikachu. Then once we have the little rodent, we'll go to Headquarters," Jessie summed up, as if it was that simple.

The dastardly trio had learned many times before not to get too excited over their "flawless plan of attack," though usually they ended up doing so anyway. This plan however...it was different. It wasn't as if they hadn't posed as workers before, but never had they tried anything like that in Pallet. Well, there was the time where they dressed up as maids at Ash's other grandparents' home, hoping to capture Pikachu and a collection of fine china and candlesticks. That rich, snobbish grandmother of his was so terribly demeaning when they pretended to work for her- James had nightmares about his past and Jessie had dreams of wanting to strangle her with that pearl necklace around her throat. Nevertheless, that little scheme ended so badly in so many ways, none of them wanted to count it on their never-ending list of defeats.

Still, as unique as this mission sounded, where did that leave-

"Hey, what about me?!"

Jessie's eyes gleamed down at a demanding Meowth, cocking a sly smile. "I have another job for you."

"Like _what_?" Meowth pressed. "I'd better not get da crap end of da stick-"

"Oh no," Jessie got off promptly, waving her hand in reassurance. "I've thought of something that would make you feel more in your element, Meowth. Your _natural_ environment."

The cat watched her closely. "Whada ya mean?"

"You will pose as a stray cat on the Parkers' farm."

Now he had officially been downgraded to a homeless flea-ridden annoyance that most people would rather kick off to the side rather than get cuddly with. Downgraded to what he _originally_ was before siding with the likes of Team Rocket. Only this time, he'd be living in a smelly barn filled with nothing but hay.

"I ain't no barn cat!" Meowth snapped, the fur on his neck standing up.

"Well, start acting like one because for the next few weeks that's all you'll be," Jessie said definitely, not willing to change her mind. "That is, till we nab that farm of theirs, as well."

James couldn't believe where this was going. "You want to try that _again_?"

They had attempted that little act nearly six years ago, and when they did they classically "blasted off again" as usual. Only they weren't just faced with the twerps' Pokémon, but a whole herd owned by the Parker clan... And James was positive he didn't want to risk his hide doing that pointless shenanigan once more.

"_Yes_," Jessie answered, as if it was the most obvious reply in the world, "only this time we'll do it differently."

"How differently?"

"I haven't gotten that far, James!" she shouted, tired of the back and forth questions. "As for right now, we'll do what is set in stone. The rest will come to me. Believe me, I've been thinking about this ever since that awful mudslide," the woman grimaced noticeably.

Jessie wasn't the only one not fully recovered from being drenched in dirt, twigs, and vegetation.

"Yeah, and I still can't get all dose clods out of my fur," Meowth commented, looking at his soiled back.

"Well the dirt will just make you look more authentic," Jessie said, as if it helped the cat's dilemma.

Gulping, James couldn't stand staying quiet. He had his own concerns, and those derived from their last exchange with Giovanni's secretary over the phone, informing the trio that they were in need of_ knowing_ something. "But Jessie, don't you remember the boss wanted to talk to us about something big?" he reminded more so than asked, urgently. "Something _important?_-"

"Oh, he won't miss us if we're a little late. Usually it seems as if he wants to be rid of us," Jessie noted, now thinking about it. But she didn't ponder it too long and soon waved casually. "Besides, this way he'll actually be _pleased_ with what we've done, and he'll forget all about our absence. So what do you say boys? Are you in or _not?_"

It wasn't much of a question through her tone. More like a_ demand_ to agree.

James was feeling conflicted, but persuaded nonetheless.

For once, Jessie's ideas were making somewhat sense. Well, in most instances James would outwardly agree with his partner without fuss, but maybe, just_ maybe_ this would go off without a hitch. The twerp hadn't noticed they were tailing him, nor did anyone in town suspect them of their presence. Plus, Jessie made a point in Giovanni not exactly wondering aimlessly where they were. After all, he told the three he wanted to send them off to Antarctica one time, and when James realized where Antarctica was he got the message rather quickly.

Even if their boss did have some consequential news that could resort in a new mission, it would be best for them to finish what they originally started. To at last successfully swipe Pikachu, and hopefully retry other failed endeavors. With one powerful electric mouse and a whole herd and more of various farm Pokémon, how could it get better than that? Maybe they weren't rare, but James thought his boss would have some use for them. And even if he didn't, it at least showed he, Jessie, and Meowth were capable of_ something_.

And, of course, a good meal and some avoidance of hollering were perks, too.

Eventually, James broke out a smile. "Well, I suppose it wouldn't hurt. As employees at the inn we could get free meals!"

"And I'll have a bigger flea count than I already do," Meowth grumbled, not actually pleased.

Yet James's agreement was enough for Jessie, dismissing anything their feline friend muttered. "Then it's settled! We will apply for work tomorrow!" she declared enthusiastically. "And will at last have Pikachu! _Once. And. For. ALL._"

Jessie's proclamation sure set high stakes for all of them, but she and James in particular were too caught up in the thought of future meals and showers to let the repercussions get the best of them. And eventually, Meowth figured he might as well join in their silly enthusiasm, considering he was going to get what they all had been dreaming about. All in all, Team Rocket became so caught up in their _brilliant_ scheme, they hadn't even noticed Ash finish scrubbing up the dishes and heading out the door to the famous Oak Laboratory.

* * *

Nothing appeared out of place.

The Oak Lab was the same as Ash remembered. Every step up the winding staircase, every blade of grass swaying in the wind freely, and all the various Pokémon scattered across the property utterly content in their little slice of Heaven. Ash raced excitedly with Pikachu clinging tightly to his shoulder, admiring all the wondrous landscape as he drew closer to the lab's front door. He was more than thrilled to visit Sam Oak's dwelling, to catch up with the old professor, and of course, to see and reconnect with all his other Pokémon.

Reaching the top, Ash pressed his finger on the doorbell, signaling his arrival to the ones inside. He did not have to wait long, for a teenager, a couple years older than him, opened the door promptly with a welcoming smile.

"Hi, Ash! Hey, Pikachu!"

Ash grinned back while Pikachu cooed happily. "Hey, Tracey. How you've been?"

The dark-green haired boy nodded. "Great. The professor and I have been caught up in a lot of research. C'mon in, I'll tell you more about it."

Ash had chatted with Tracey on and off through their occasional phone conversations whenever he needed to switch out a member of his team, and yet seeing Tracey in person made Ash look differently at the young man. He had aged considerably from their travels in the Orange Islands. He was a tad taller, a tad slimmer with more defined muscles rather than awkward, round, and youthful cheeks. He still kept a headband wrapped around his head, and his overall cheery expression glowed like it always had.

Following behind the lab assistant, Ash entered the living room of the lab, seeing Prof. Oak hadn't changed the decor much. After all, keeping the place up to date on style and, sometimes, keeping the dust-bunnies away were the last things on his mind. Research revolved around the old man's life. Though thankfully, Tracey was always on top of things, including fieldwork _and_ housekeeping.

"So what have you guys been up to?" Ash questioned, making himself at home on the couch.

Tracey sat across from him in a comfy one-seat sofa. "A lot actually," he chuckled. "More than I could tell you. But lately... You see, we've been conducting research on one of the most mysterious legendries!"

"Seriously?" Ash asked incredulously. This was big! "Which one?"

Tracey looked up at him with plain eyes. "Ho-Oh."

"Ho-Oh?" Ash echoed as Pikachu cocked his head to the side.

He remembered a long time ago, when he first started his journey, that Prof. Oak had told him there was no way he could have seen Ho-Oh after that horrific storm, basically saying searching for anything on the bird surrounded in mystery was a lost cause; that hundreds had tried but never succeeded... Yet as Ash traveled on into the Johto region- he learned the basics. Overall background information by natives of Eureka City themselves, and any folklore passed down through the years one would believe to be the truth of the phoenix. All of that was familiar to Ash. So if it was very much impossible to discover any more on Ho-Oh, why was Prof. Oak of all people investigating?

Ash twisted his mouth for a moment, trying to find a logical explanation for the professor's sudden drive to uncover answers, but found nothing. "Do you know why?" the teenager pressed, looking to his friend.

"Not really," Tracey shrugged. "Prof. Oak just told me about a couple of weeks ago that we were going to start looking into Ho-Oh. That was pretty much it."

That was rather strange indeed. It wasn't like Prof. Oak to jump on a project out of blue- well, the passionate researcher in him might argue that, but at the very least he would have informed his lab assistant as to _why_ they would randomly start looking into a creature they hardly knew anything about except the obvious.

"Well... What have you learned so far?" Ash asked, curious all the same.

"Nothing that someone wouldn't already know," Tracey mused. "So far he's just informed me of Ho-Oh's backstory. He told me all about why it disappeared and what people believe to this day. Then he showed me a few findings he had in some of his books. I'm still not exactly sure what we're looking for."  
So it seemed they were just getting started... Nevertheless, Ash figured it wouldn't be too long before Prof. Oak filled Tracey in on what the purpose was behind their new task. There had to be a reason, and a good and compelling reason at that.

"Either way, it sounds exciting," Ash said casually.

Tracey smiled, the true explorer showing forth. "Doesn't it? If we uncover something about Ho-Oh that no one else knows, this could be a huge stride in Prof. Oak's career. That and-" he paused, gazing off to the side as if dreams were filtering through his head. "Well, it might help me in the research field too. You know, get my name out there and all."

Claiming it would help Tracey would be an understatement. Depending on what the pair would unearth, it would certainly give Tracey recognition in other labs across Kanto and as well as build his resume. After all, not everyone got to work side by side with Prof. Oak, nor could reveal a piece of unknown knowledge about Ho-Oh either.

Ash smiled back understandingly. "I can imagine. Knowing you two, I'm sure you'll find out something."

"Thanks, Ash. I hope we do."

"_You_ will," the teenager insisted. He had faith in the both of them, and simply talking about the research made him want to join. "And when you do, _you_ can fill me in on it."

Tracey chortled, expecting nothing less from his adventurous and very inquisitive friend. "Haha, sure thing."

The polite smiles faded steadily, for Ash was beginning to ponder other things, one being _where_ Prof. Oak exactly was. He hadn't seen him, or heard him squabbling with an uncooperative Pokémon who refused to get in their 'ball, or simply talking to himself under his breath as he worked.

Ash threw his gaze around, listening for some kind of noise. But heard nothing. "Say Tracey? Where is Prof. Oak?"

"He's actually down in the lab on the phone right now," Tracey informed. "But you're more than welcome to come see your Pokemon while you wait. I'm sure they would be happy to see you."

Ah yes, Ash's beloved rambunctious group of Pokémon. Visiting them was something he most certainly intended on doing (practically number one on his priority list), however, the business with Ho-Oh was a distraction he couldn't dismiss. But there wasn't much else to say, not without talking one on one with Prof. Oak. So Ash decided it would have to wait.

Ash got up as Tracey did the same, soon looking to Pikachu for an agreeable nod and quickly earned it with a "chu" accompanying it. Then, the teenager flashed his gaze back to the lab assistant. "Sounds great. We've got plenty of time to kill anyway."

* * *

"Glad to hear from you! So you're already in Fuchsia City?"

"We just arrived about an hour ago. We're at the airport right now."

Prof. Sam Oak wrinkled his forehead. "_We_?"

Last time he checked, there was no other human companion in Jay's party_ but_ him. Yet now, here a figure emerged shyly from the corner of the video screen, waving his hand sheepishly.

Sam's expression lightened. "Oh, hello Drake!" The professor hadn't seen that familiar face in ages. At least face to face. And when they last spoke, Drake wasn't taller than him and the shirt he wore was over-sized on his small boyish frame. Not an extremely fit young man who towered a couple inches over him. But what was Drake doing here?

"Uh, hi professor," he greeted awkwardly, his voice cracking slightly over the long distance call. "I'm guessing you're probably wondering what I'm doing here."

"You guessed right." Sam's tone sharpened rather drastically, looking to Jay with a fatherly stern expression. "Jayce, I thought you said it was dangerous to have anyone accompany you to begin with? After all the trouble you've gone through-"

"I did, but Giovanni doesn't know Drake and I are related," Jay hastily said, staying rather calm. "Besides, I need this guy to help me convince the league for their help," he added, elbowing his brother playfully. "To _vouch_ for me."

The professor raised a brow, still not convinced. "And you think that Giovanni not knowing how you and Drake are connected would make a difference in seeking the league's aid? He still might try-"

"If there's one thing I've learned it's that the lackeys Giovanni sends after me aren't that swift. If they haven't even realized we've been in contact after all this time, then the chances of them finding out about Drake are slim. Plus, it helps that Drake goes by his mom's last name instead."

Well that all did make sense. By the grace of God there had been no suspicious activity blatantly stating Giovanni was aware of Jay and Sam's phone calls. Neither had Team Rocket picked up on the subtle, yet big relation between him and Drake. Year after year, Jay was able to stay in contact with the professor and gain more information, and sometimes be assisted when in financial troubles. Jay swore if Team Rocket found out about Sam, not only would the researcher's life be at stake, but Jay sure wouldn't have gotten where he was without the old man's aid. Saying he was thankful that Giovanni's grunts were a tad on the doltish side was an understatement. There were the occasional agents that weren't so easy to fool, but most of the time, after years of being on the run, it became easier for Jay to camouflage and fend for himself. And now with Drake by his side- that just made things twice as easier.

Prof. Oak sighed. "If you say so." After all the turmoil Jay had survived unscathed (physically that is), Sam doubted Jay's motives and decisions less and less. Still, that father and friend in him couldn't help but worry when Jay outwardly plunged himself in the face of danger for the food of mankind. The bravery or sometimes considered recklessness was very much- a _family_ trait for the Ketchums.

"But I still would suggest keeping both eyes open-"

"Don't worry, Sam," Jay assured again sincerely. "We'll be fine. Besides, Drake's appearance might shake things up a bit."

"Yes, they might. In a _bad_ way," the professor threw in foreboding the obvious.

Diminishing Jay's one last attempt at being free was never Sam's intention. Rather, he preferred for his friend to move about carefully, consider his actions and wants before performing them. Yes, Drake clearly would be an asset to have as an ally, both on the battlefield and in regards to speaking with the league. But was that worth the risk? The big picture? Then again, hadn't they both agreed that Jay had done enough running around for a lifetime?

Conflicted, Sam sighed and rested his faith in the hands of the two men.

"Just promise me you two will watch out for each other? There's no telling what Team Rocket might pull. Why, their past stunts speak for themselves!"

"Past stunts?" Drake echoed, not liking Prof. Oak's sudden exclaim. His eyes soon shifted over to Jay, mingling with worry and perplexity all at once. "Do I dare ask?"

"Why?" Jay retorted with a smirk. "Ya scared?"

"To be honest, kinda."

"Well, just to give you an example," Jay started thoughtfully, stroking his chin, "they once threatened to give me a frontal lobotomy for information."

Did he just_ hear_ him correctly? Blue eyes widened as Drake stood stupefied, sucking in a startling breath. "They tried to give you a_ frontal lobotomy_?" he at last repeated.

"Relax. They never succeeded," he quickly cleared. Just hearing that word kicked Jay into natural defensive mode. There was no way in hell he'd succumb to such torture, even if he meant he had to fight off a pack of six guys with his already injured Pokémon in need of rest. It was a good thing his Marshtomp evolved that day.

"I've gotten out of so much that none of it really scares me anymore," Jay explained, keeping himself calm and cool.

Drake was certain, though, the confidence wasn't plain arrogance on Jay's part. That wasn't in his makeup. However, what the trainer couldn't tell was if his brother's lack of fear was because he had become resistant to scary elements most individuals would quiver from, or if he was officially crazy. Either way, Jay's words weren't enough for the trainer to feel at ease without those haunting thoughts of being penetrated in the eyeball as a result facing a mental breakdown.

"You're telling me you aren't scared- _period_?" Drake asked, utterly dumbfounded.

Serious, icy eyes flashed back at Drake with lowered eyebrows, deep in thought. "I'm still afraid of what Giovanni might try to pull in Pallet if he gets wind of my plan," Jay somberly confessed. "_Trust_ me. I can't help but worry about..."

His thought trailed off into an incomplete sentence; however Drake didn't need his older brother to finish for him to understand. Things were about heat up, which meant a lot would be at risk, things would change. _People_ could be hurt.

"He won't," Drake assured like a mother tending to an open new wound on her child. "I mean- we'll try not to let it happen. _They'll_ be safe. You've kept them safe for this long." Eventually, Drake's gaze lingered back to Prof. Oak, faintly begging for him to provide his own dose of reassurance. "You'll keep an eye on Delia and Ash, won't you Sam?"

Prof. Oak nodded. "As I always have. But with the way Ash is coming up, I'm sure he could hold his own. He is very headstrong!" he chortled with nothing but good humor.

This made Drake smirk softly, cocking an eye at his brother. It wasn't a surprise really. "Hmm, I wonder where he gets that from?"

"Probably from his mom," Jay answered with a shrug, though he knew quite perfectly what his little brother was implying.

_Yeah, uh-huh. From his mom, _Drake snorted silently. If anything, Ash got it from both_ his_ parents.

Before any more witty banter could spur between the two, however, the subject was changed rather to all's advantage. Talk of Team Rocket's use of torture and the sensitive subject of his estranged son weren't exactly topics Jay longed to discuss. But what came out of Prof. Oak's mouth wasn't at all delicate, but out of the blue yet thoughtful.

The professor's memory was jogged when his eyes wandered to the open tab of his e-mail on his computer, right in the middle of the brothers' sarcastic bantering. "Oh, by the way, you two," Sam abruptly said with a small smile, "in case you have a chance to actually enjoy summer, there's an annual festival being held right now in Fuchsia. It popped up in my e-mail on Summer Kanto Events!" he explained, with another short laugh.

"A festival?" Drake piped up.

"Yes," Sam confirmed. "I believe today is the last day."

The last thing they needed was confirmation about a city event not worth their time. Jay was itching to start moving again, and hadn't thought about anything else. His number one goal was to get to the Indigo League in one piece, which meant spending less time sightseeing and more time running on uneven dirt roads.

All the same, Jay tried to be polite about Sam's innocent suggestion. "Thanks Sam, but I don't think we're gonna be able to stick around for it-"

"Sure we can," Drake cut off with a grateful grin. "It wouldn't be any trouble at all."

"Are you _nuts_?" Jay raised his voice in disbelief. He had to be kidding! Of course it was trouble. Going there was a way of _asking_ for trouble! "You seriously want to go to a festival which we have no clue what it's about on _top_ of Team Rocket tracking us down? The sooner and quicker we move the_ better_."

Jay's stance on the matter was rather compelling, but it was argumentative. And Drake made sure to remind him of just that.

"Yeah, but you honestly think Team Rocket would consider crashing a highly-populated festival without making a scene?" he rebutted, examining the whole picture. "Usually, you said when you're in a big crowd they don't like to draw attention to themselves."

"Yes, that is usually the case. However, there's always a chance they will. Hence:_ usually_."

His voice was bitter and definite, and didn't waver at any of the points his little brother willingly mentioned. This wasn't a game, there was no time to be goofing off. Festival or no festival, Jay wasn't about to take a short "break" only to be tailed by the organization he had worked so hard to escape and eventually lose all sight of. Leaving an obvious breadcrumb trail behind, only for the goons to pick at it as they went along, wasn't exactly what he defined as a smart strategy.

But Drake wasn't through persisting.

"Well, I don't think it would kill either one of us if we went." His word choice wasn't thoughtful. Then again, if they were hidden among a gigantic swarm of people would they really be in any danger? "Besides, it's about the only amount of semi-enjoyment we're gonna get out of this trip."

A roll of Jay's eyes indicated his view on the debate. Drake should have used the word _I _if he so wanted to make it clear that his vacation time had been stripped away from him. It's not like he didn't have a choice- Then again, guilt would have ridden heavily on his shoulders if he hadn't complied...

With an irritated huff, Jay drew his attention back to Sam with support, but all he earned was a neutral look. First, Sam warned him to watch his step, and now he permitted them to run head first into a possible trap? The only thing that made somewhat sense about going to the festival was, one: it was summer, and summer indicated fun and relaxation no matter how old one was; two: as far as Jay was aware, Team Rocket was oblivious to his whereabouts; and three: as Drake mentioned earlier, blending into enormous crowds did the trick of scaring them away. On most instances, that is... That and they rightfully _deserved_ a break.

With another loud huff, Jay made his decision. "Fine, if you insist," he grumbled sourly, folding his arms. "But don't be surprised if something happens. If _I'm right._ And to make things easier on both our parts, we can at least drive down in case any suspecting eyes see us."

Drake's forehead wrinkled in surprise. "Hold on! What do you mean drive?-"

Suddenly, a loud sound behind the closed door of Prof. Oak's lab erupted, and while it was faint to Sam's ear, it was enough to draw his attention. Then, he heard a distinct voice. _Someone_ was coming. Hurriedly, with an even expression but a racing pulse, Sam swiveled back to the two men.

"I'm sorry to cut this short, you two, but I've got some trainers waiting for me," he said, looking up to the staircase with a nervous gulp. After ten years... this- this wasn't the way that_ someone_ should find out.

"It's fine, Sam," Jay replied, unaware of Sam's sudden reasoning for extinguishing the conversation. "We wouldn't want to hold you up."

"Talk to you two later, then?" Sam said, making the signing off official.

"Yeah," Jay answered. "We'll call later."

"Take care then, and enjoy the festival."

The waving of Sam's hand speedily vanished as the video screen went pitch black, following through with Jay hanging up the receiver. So that was it. They'd drop their stuff off at the Pokémon Center, have a quick meal, and go to the festival. Then they'd check out the sights and hopefully, Drake would be satisfied with enough free time that he'd stop his deprivation and move on.

However, there was one other thing Drake wasn't through with.

Turning to his brother, Drake cocked a suspicious yet confused eye. "So what's this _drive_ business about?"

Jay just smiled, motioning his head to the left. "Take a look yourself."

Back inside the lab, as his side of the screen switched off into darkness, Prof. Oak released a sigh of relief and slumped in his swiveling chair. That was close. Being caught in the middle of an awkward reunion of father/son and then to have to explain to Ash why he was in contact with Jay, handling a likely angry, crying, confused, aghast, or simply all four of those emotions combined, already fragile teenager... But everything was fine. Ash (while Sam was sure it was him by his voice), was still outside the door, and Jay and Drake were completely wiped away from the screen. Yes, no one was going to find out anything-

At least not yet.

_I just hope they'll be all right,_ Sam began to ponder, praying the little outing was a good idea.

While it was important for Jay and Drake to get going, they needed rest and if concealing in a large mass of people also had its perks then there was no point in them not going. However- A fast creaking of an open door drew the professor's eyes to the stairwell, discovering none other than Ash and his yellow mouse smiling buoyantly at them. Tracey soon followed behind, as they made their way down the steps.

"Ah, Ash! Pikachu!" Prof. Oak first called, rising from his seat. "I thought I might have heard you."

"Hey, professor!" Ash replied back, ignorant to the man's hidings. "Sorry if I'm interrupting you-"

"Not at all," the professor waved, trying to act like his normal self. "Now what can I do for you? Came to visit your Pokémon, I assume? They've been itching to see you again."

"Actually, Tracey and I just did that," Ash explained, beaming at the lab assistant as they met Sam on ground level.

The professor's brows rose, astonished. "That quickly?"

"Oh no, I've been here a while," the teenager clarified. It made sense. Sam believed he had heard the doorbell ring, even from down there. "Tracey's been updating me on all your latest research."

Sam cringed inside. Oh no. What _had_ Tracey said? The lab assistant was clueless of the reasoning behind their latest task, but if Ash was to catch on, anyway... How could he explain this? To both of them? There was no doubt Tracey would eventually be informed, let in all the secrets in order for their research to be a success. But as for Ash... He wasn't supposed to know anything. Those were the orders.

"Oh." Prof. Oak was in a real pickle. With a quivering lip, he swallowed, attempting to keep his composure. "You mean us looking into-"

"Ho-Oh," Ash finished. "I was wondering what exactly you guys are looking into. Like more about its origin or something? I'm sorry, it just sounds really fascinating to me."

Fascinating indeed. Sam couldn't blame the kid; after all Ash was always inquisitive when it came to news in the realm of Pokémon. It was an innocent question and on most instances, the professor was more than eager to spill the beans about all his recent work. The announcement of he and Tracey diving into the unknown territory of the legendary bird was hard for anyone to resist popping questions... However, Sam wasn't ready to tell Ash any of this; nevertheless he had to dream up _something_ to say. But what?

Prof. Oak choked. "I- I'm not quite sure yet."

Ash lowered his eyebrows, puzzled. "What do you mean? You must have some reason-"

"It's purely out of curiosity. No one in years has really taken the time to look into Ho-Oh, so I thought I'd take a whack at it. When Tracey and I find something..." The sentence lingered into nothing, and both Ash and Tracey stood very surprised. The tone Prof. Oak used was definite, and he rushed through his words without elaborating much, almost sounding like he was purposely being hasty- almost _harsh_. Either he was simply frustrated by the project, or he didn't want them to know much about it. But this was Prof. Oak! He'd never hide anything. Would he?

There was a pause, but it was short as the corners of Sam's lips flew back up at the perplexed boys. "We'll be sure to tell you," he finally declared with a softer, less frazzled tone. "I promise. The project is just in its infantile stage right now."

Ash nodded slowly. "Uh, okay."

"Now, why don't we all have some tea and you can tell us all about your adventures?"

The abrupt shift in topic sounded more like a pushy demand rather than a request. Without fighting it because Ash really didn't understand why to fight it, he and Tracey nodded, only to see the tension in Sam's shoulders fade immensely.

"Sounds good," Ash agreed evenly.

"Wonderful," the professor exclaimed, already making his start up the staircase like his old self. "I'll get the tea kettle ready."

Yet everything wasn't wonderful. At least not in one person's suspicious mind. Ash was left silently wondering one question, and while he pressured to ask Tracey it, he could not with Prof. Oak directly in front of them as they traveled up the staircase. So he looked to Pikachu quietly, who appeared just as befuddled as him. He was a Pokémon, but Pikachu could sense something was off.

And both master and Pokémon felt a strange need to worry about it.

* * *

"Tom, relax, we've got this all under control."

"I appreciate your reassurance, Leah, but I am afraid you don't understand the delicacy of this."

"Delicate how? All we're doing is hosting a celebration in honor of the Mayor's reelection."

Tom was completely aghast. "That's exactly my point! This is for the mayor, _our _mayor! A very important figure in the town that deserves nothing but the best! Plus, think of the publicity you would get if this ended up in the newspaper! Everyone will be crawling to the inn!"

Publicity or not, neither Delia, Michelle, nor Leah were ready to vanquish any authority over to the annoying head of the town council. The inn's grand celebration of its anniversary and the mayor's reelection was, yet again, another important Pallet Town ordeal that he could not help but stick his nose in, like a blister that never went away. Seeing his "high and mighty position," the obnoxious man found it appropriate for him to barge into the ladies' plans for the important evening. After all, part of the reception dealt with the mayor, and it was no secret Tom was a, what Ernest put it as, "an ass kisser," hoping to seek higher privileges and prayers from a forty year old man who honestly didn't do much for the town to begin with besides serve an empty title. It seemed the mayor allowed the council to orchestrate most of the happenings in the quaint community, which left Tom to think he was in possession of some kind of holier power.

An exasperated sigh slipped from Delia's throat as she played idly with her pen, praying for their forced meeting to be over soon. They were supposed to be discussing main courses, decorations, hiring a band possibly, and the final designs for flyers. For_ the people_. Not what the mayor needed or would make him feel right at home. Not only that, but Delia desperately needed some lunch if she was going to think halfway straight.

Placing the thought of receiving more customers because of this aside, Leah countered Tom's statement tactfully. "You never cared so much when Prof. Oak asked us to host a party for him and his colleagues."

"That was a different circumstance. This is about the town!" he explained as if the innkeeper should have known better. Prof. Oak and whatever theories he wished to discuss with similar detached men of their social clique was far from his concern. "One of our most profitable establishments is celebrating fifty-five years of success, and our mayor has just won yet another election even with handicaps!"

"Because no one else ran," Michelle reminded. Her doodles on her paper that she originally had to take notes were driving her mad. That pie and soufflé she sketched out really made her realize she was way past her usual lunch time. Delia sure wasn't the only one who felt that incessant rumbling. Though her empty stomach didn't distract her enough to not catch on to Tom's word choice. "And what do you mean handicaps?" she questioned, giving the balding man a peculiar eye.

Tom's eyes went wide, shaking his head as he diverted his gaze. "I've said too much."

"No, tell us, Tom," Leah persisted evenly. "If we're supposed to understand your continual worries then there's no sense leaving us in the dark."

"Well..." His eyes kept trailing, almost loitering purposely to heighten the suspense. Then, he breathed out a heavy huff. "I'm sure that everyone will get wind of this eventually, but..."

"But what?" Delia piped up, honestly confused.

Spinning his attention back to the three women, Tom hunkered down while speaking in a low whisper. Like children finding out a dirty secret about their fellow classmate, the man proceeded to give each and every one of them a stern glance. "You ladies have to promise on Pallet's founder that you won't breathe a _word_ of this to anyone till it is announced."

"Tom, what's the big secret that you're making us swear on the town's founder?" Michelle snapped, cutting to the chase. She didn't like this beating around the bush, especially when she had sous chefs in need of her and customers to make happy.

Though Tom held on to the anticipation despite the older woman's impatience, giving one last thought of consideration before blurting out the truth. "Rumor has it that the mayor is in the middle of settling a _divorce_."

Leah was the first to frown. "And this is any of our business because-"

"Because can you imagine the bad wrap he'll be getting?" Tom finally exploded. Once noticing his voice had raised a couple of levels, he peered over his shoulder as if someone was actually listening in. But no one was, so he swiveled back around in the same secretive position. "His wife was already starting to spout off about him two-timing her."

"Well maybe he did!" Michelle suggested, seeing it was_ very_ possible. Human beings made terrible mistakes, and being involved with politics, even small town politics, could attract the wrong kind of public attention.

Tom was taken aback as if she refused to sing Kanto's national anthem. "Michelle, do not speculate such disrespectful things about the mayor! His wife's a basket case as it is! You can't take her word seriously. She says anything she likes. Remember how she snubbed you and Leah _and_ Delia at last year's bake sale?"

Ah, who could forget that? It was the bake sale of all bake sales. All the money raised was supposed to be donated to the town's preparation for the big summer festival. Many enthusiastic bakers joined, both amateur and experienced, though everyone flocked anyway to delight in a sweet treat and help contribute a donation, big or small, to their precious festival. The mayor, of course, attended the sale, and his wife joined in on the scene, making chitchat and purchases with only close friends. She even had the gall to dismiss Delia and the others' talents, claiming their pies to be nothing more than average to everyone around her. And for no reason to! Only jealousy could light such a desire to hurt, and as to why she'd do such a thing-

Delia still bristled at that. That insufferable and childish woman! They all had worked so hard on their desserts, that none of them deserved such criticism. Especially from a woman who hadn't participated in the sale herself, nor probably knew how to make a proper pie crust.

"She was kind of rude," Delia muttered, considering that point was indeed true.

"So what?" Michelle furthered to argue. As much as she disliked being criticized on a juvenile level, she wasn't about to let anything that woman say rule over her. And, well, completely define her character. "Just because she's rude doesn't make her a, well- adulterer!"

"Rude is rude, and if she already has bad blood with you three, think of the scandal that could break out here if everyone found out. If_ she_ found out. She'll be starting some crazy rumor that one of you is having an affair with her husband and that's why you're hosting the party in honor of him! That's why we can't have any imperfections among you or the staff. Give her any reasons to think such things!"

Well, it wasn't their idea to necessarily host the party just for the mayor. It was actually the town council's suggestion, and after taking a poll at one of the many meetings, the people agreed it would be only right to throw a little bash for the man. So, seeing they were the only inn within a reasonable radiance, the task fell onto Leah, her daughter, and her business associate. At first, they were more than happy to do so, seeing they had their own little shindig to plan. But now with Tom's overbearing input and this sudden pressure... it was becoming a tad too much, and that dreamt up rumor Tom created was the last straw.

It was unorthodox to say the least.

"Right," Leah surprisingly bit back sarcastically, but in a subtle tone. "And people would believe her."

"Well, not so much you, Leah. But I'm afraid Delia appears vulnerable to the public eye-"

Delia's eyebrows lowered, peeved. "Come again?"

"What is_ that_ supposed to mean, Tom?" Michelle sharply added in, for both herself and Leah. She may not have been Delia's biological mother, but by God, being her Godmother was enough to make her natural maternal instincts kick in.

"I'm just trying to say, while we all know Delia is an upstanding woman, her single status may ruffle a few feathers," Tom elucidated discreetly as if trying to cover up something.

This only made Delia's eyebrow twitched. "I am_ not_ single, and I highly doubt_ I'll_ ruffle any feathers."

The day Ash left for his journey Delia placed her wedding band back on her delicate finger. That letter Jay wrote, the one Ash so kindly left for her to find... It nearly made Delia's feelings of fear, despair, anger, and confusion wash away. And a few days before, when she at last confessed to her broken son that she indeed still had strong affections for his father... Delia hadn't harbored those feelings in so long now thanks to that letter. At least, the doubt and pain had eased itself to a more tolerable level.

In return, Tom scoffed at her insistence. "Oh come now, Delia! Despite your single status _or_ not, let us not forget the explicable incident you brought upon yourself. No one has forgotten that!"

Delia's mouth gaped. "_Explicable incident_? What in the world are you talking about?" She felt as if she had been hit out of left field.

"The time when you-" An awkward expression graced Tom's face, fidgeting with his mouth, indicating he was having difficulty finding the right words to say. If there _were_ any right words, for that matter. "Well, when you tragically earned the name, 'the town tart' for nearly close to six months."

Delia's cheeks flushed. Everyone had to have forgotten that. They _had_ to. That was years ago! A year or two before Ash was even born! No, that was just old news now...

Regaining her composure, Delia sat with a firm glare. "That has _nothing_ to do with what we're dealing with today. And I would just like to say on behalf of my own defense, that that so called 'incident' was an _accident_."

The clarification wasn't enough for Tom, though. "Call it what you may, you undeniably flashed yourself to two individuals. We have witnesses."

"By _accident," _the woman insisted strongly, feeling the heat in her cheeks intensify. "It wasn't my intention to- to-!"

"I completely understand that you were at the wrong place at the wrong time. But it _did_ look as if you were showing a sneak preview to your boyfriend-"

"Well I don't see how scandalous it is now Tom, considering he's my _husband_. I've never been with any other man before."

"Be it as it may, at the time it looked rather suggestive."

Delia begged to differ. She didn't come out onto the front porch half-naked saying "come hither" to any teenage boy with an alluring eye. That wasn't the reputation she set for herself! Ever! She had actually rushed out of the shower with only a towel wrapped around her because she had forgotten the egg delivery Mrs. Abbott was coming by to pick up early that evening. And that she was the one settled with the task of giving it to her. All Delia was going to do was stick her hand out the door with the egg-box right there for the elderly woman to reach when, losing her grip, her towel slipped from her upper body, and by trying to catch her exposed chest the door swung open, only to discover not a little old lady, but her red-faced, frozen boyfriend standing before her with the world history textbook in his hand that she had forgotten on her last visit to his house.

Poor Jay. He was so modest then and so considerate of everything under the moon when it came to his girlfriend. Delia was about as heated in the face as he was, and just as panicked and startled- and embarrassed. Both rambling like idiots with sincere apologies, Jay covering his face and backing up, while Delia struggled to hide the revealed part of her body. Jay wasn't supposed to see her that way, not right then and there- well, part of her then and there, and Greta (the biggest gossiper in town), who was meandering down the road, wasn't supposed to see it at all _period_. But she saw a good enough glimpse to make an inappropriate comment before rushing back to her store and letting all of Pallet know the latest gossip. And boy, did talk of the farmer and innkeeper's youngest daughter flashing herself to the wealthiest resident's son became big news everyone was dying to hear. And both Delia and Jay suffered greatly from it. Not only from the exaggerated gossip, but from Ernest's wrath. That was the day Delia swore Jay was going to officially lose an eye.

That was certainly not the first intimate encounter Delia wanted with her true love. If anything, it was a bad comedy of errors.

Being consumed with the displeasure that accident had brought upon them all those years ago, Leah's gaze sharpened. "That is enough Tom! This is completely irrelevant. For one, I think that-"

But before she could fully defend her daughter's character, the phone at the front desk buzzed off. It was joy to Delia's ears, though. Her chance to get away from all the inane madness.

Delia soon turned to her mother as she rose out of her seat. "I'll get it, Mom," she willingly volunteered, fleeing the dining room before more talk spurred. She couldn't believe how a simple conversation over tablecloths led to the speculation of the mayor being an adulterer, to her being suspect number one – even though she really wasn't. Same ol' crazy town and all its crazy people. Delia was beginning to wonder if the party was worth the trouble at all.

Answering the phone, however, on the third ring, Delia withheld her anxiety. "_Butterfree Inn_, Delia speaking. How may I help you?"

"I'm thinking about roast for dinner. Ash likes roast, doesn't he?"

Delia's mouth fell open, chestnut eyes wide. "_Emily_?"

"Why do you always act so surprised when I call?" Delia's mother-in-law snapped. "Of course it's me! Now does Ash like roast or not?"

"Uh- yes," Delia replied, regaining her composure with a shake of her head. "He loves roast but-"

"Perfect. I'll have Elisa pick one up for tonight. Did you hear that, Elisa?" Delia heard Emily's voice rise, as if calling across a long distance. "I need a roast for tonight! And not a _chuck roast_. Those things are cheap-"

"Tonight?" Delia interrupted.

Emily Ketchum was using her overly demanding voice, the one her older son believed she used when she sat on her unworn sofa with the phone balancing perfectly against her ear, and hollering at the fifth maid she hired for the month who was off in another room. Apparently, _that_ hadn't changed either.

Hearing she had caught Emily's attention with her exclaim, Delia refocused and continued somewhat calmly. "Emily- how did you find out Ash is home? He's only been here for a day-"

"I have ways, Delia. One being the old woman with missing teeth at the store who can't keep her mouth shut," Emily retorted crudely, but all the same true.

The sad part was, Delia knew who she meant. And it was the same old woman who was causing her agony with Tom's accusations now. "You mean Greta?" she corrected with a defeatist sigh.

"Whatever her name is. I suppose you _were_ going to get around to telling me-"

"Of course I was," the young woman swore promptly. "I just haven't had the chance with everything at the inn, and Ash is still settling in-"

"What's going on at the inn?"

Now Emily was using her "interested voice." Delia had attempted to keep Emily updated with her life as family would on occasion, and there had been significant progress in their strained relationship since Ash departed home. But still, nothing could be a bed full of roses with Emily. Everything was just always full of- tension. Maybe less tension after all these years; however, the tension was very much still alive.

Delia shook her head. "Nothing, only we're trying to plan a dinner in honor for the mayor's re-election and our own anniversary for the establishment."

"Well that certainly doesn't sound like nothing!" It wasn't. And Delia hoped to get the message across with her slightly exasperated tone. However, all Emily could do was wonder about something else.

"Why haven't you told me about this?" the older woman instead demanded. "I could be of service-"

"Oh Emily, as kind as that is of you, I know how busy your schedule is," she swiftly rebutted, keeping a polite voice in check. Though Delia preferred she'd stay out of her business and be flexible with her schedule altogether.

This only made Emily scoff harshly. "Oh for God's sake, you should know better now than to patronize me, Delia. My schedule is flexible for me to re-arrange things. Unless, you do not think my opinion is valid enough for your barn-raising themed event-"

"No, no," Delia quietly but hastily corrected. "I'm sure hearing someone else's perspective would be refreshing. Especially on decor."

Emily could help with decor if she wished, but Delia didn't want her touching her menu. She and Michelle had slaved over that and there was no way their perfected recipes would be tossed out the window at the idea of Gyarados fritters or Octillery suckers because Emily believed they'd add a worldly twist to the menu.

Thankfully, though, Delia's mother-in-law appeared fairly satisfied. "Well then it's settled. As long as your mother is fine with it, I'd be more than delighted to aid you two. After all, party planning is a breeze for someone who's thrown over a hundred banquets, fundraisers, functions for various clubs, birthday parties-"

"We would be very happy to have you."

Delia didn't need to be reminded of all the work Emily had done in the past, and the experience she gained from it. What aggravated her was the fact that Emily seemed to forget that both she and Leah had plenty of knowledge of the catering business as well. Considering they had catered her ludicrous _Daughters of Kanto_ fundraisers to begin with. It wasn't as if Emily had bad taste, however, she didn't need her mother-in-law's controlling behavior taking over the entire operation.

Nevertheless, Delia decided to be the bigger person and allowed her to join in once earning Leah's permission. Which she was sure she'd get out of pure intimidation and desire to not start a war.

"Wonderful!" Emily exclaimed, her lips finally curving into a smile. A smile reading: mission accomplished. "We can talk and arrange a time tonight of when we all should meet. I'll see you at six then."

"See you at six," she replied with a fake cheery tone.

And with that, Delia slammed the phone down and huffed.

Damn.

Emily always managed to get her tongue-tied with no idea how to undo the pesky knot. It was times like this she wished for her _husband_ to appear. He'd know what to do, how to handle his forceful mother, how to shrug off anything she'd say whether it'd turn ugly or not... Because at the end of the day he had learned to care less. It made Delia wonder all the more if she simply needed to _think_ like Jay when confronting Emily. Then again, to think like Jay would make her a different person entirely, and she wasn't sure she had enough sarcastic comebacks and distance to not take her mother-in-law's words to heart. Why did she out of all people have to get stuck with someone like her for an in-law? Hadn't Delia done enough good to get some kind of relief from her family, albeit biologically related or not?

Sighing, the exasperated woman's attention was diverted to a warm grin and casual wave. Ash had just strolled into the inn, appearing as if he might have spent a good deal of time out in the hot sun, and to her assumption, most likely romping around with his Pokémon.

Finally, someone with a _sane_ mind to talk to.

"Hey, Mom," he called, bouncing over to the front desk.

Delia's face lit up with a small but tired smile. "Hi, sweetie." She didn't know how she was going to drop the bomb to her son about dinner, nor how he'd react to the sudden arrangements they had no choice but to attend. More than anything, Delia knew she would be the one really dreading the gathering. "So... I have a surprise to tell you."

"A good surprise?" Ash lingered cautiously.

Delia's smile slipped nervously. "Depending on how you look at it."

"Okay... So what it is Mom?"

"Well, a little birdie told your very well off grandparents, who we are _very_ much thankful for their help, that you just came home."

Ash frowned. "It was Greta, wasn't it? Why does she have to blab about everyone's personal business?"

"Ash, you realize you were going to have to visit them eventually," Delia reminded, seeing reason, though she had been dreading it in the back of her mind.

"Well yeah, I don't mind, but I just got home," her son replied, a little taken aback. "I haven't even had time to relax, let alone arrange dinner plans with them-" Ash stopped. He should have known better. "_Are_ we having dinner with them?"

Delia nodded, smiling softly as if to grin and bear it. "Tonight at six, right on the dot."

"All right. You think Grandpa will be there?" he asked, hoping for Richard's presence. It was never the assumption that he disliked Emily, rather the teenager found more fruitful things to discuss with his grandfather. One being Pokémon. After all, Ash's ignorance of Emily's prickliness faded, seeing more and more of her behavior. But he loved her like a good grandson should nonetheless.

"I'm sure," his mother nodded. She then watched Ash's eyes drop down to the counter, seeing himself become distant over the dinner, though it was unclear why. Reaching her hand out, Delia touched his hand warmly. He may have been in the process of becoming a young independent man, but Delia still looked at him as the little boy who cried when suffering a scrape on his knee.

"Honey," Delia cooed, earning his eyesight, "they're just excited to see you again. We all are."

Ash sighed, drawing his hand back to his side. "I know, I know... It's- It's just when I was on my way home, when I saw everyone and everything... I got this weird feeling in my gut." Delia stood by anxiously, trying to decipher what her son's riddle meant. For the past six years, everything had gone fairly swimmingly for the both of them. It was only natural to receive a few jitters when heading to the senior Ketchums' house, yet- Delia wasn't sure if that was completely it.

More so quickly than slowly, Ash beamed one of his traditional upbeat smiles. "It's okay though, Mom. I'm excited to see them again too."

She felt it was a facade to cover up something deeper, but Delia smiled along anyway. She had enough troubles waiting in the dining room for her. And she didn't need Ash to get an earful of any of it. Hoping Ash's presence would buffer such strange talk, Delia led her son back into the room with her, finding the discussion to be reaching an end. Tom rose from his seat and pushed his chair in. Thank goodness!

"Fine, I'm glad we have reached an agreement," the pair heard him say to Leah and Michelle. He didn't go into much depth after that to their surprise, though Delia knew she'd eventually get the full scoop from Leah. Hopefully, instead of Tom's outrageous concerns, they went back to talking about linens and how many chairs were needed in each room.

As he turned on his heels, Tom unexpectedly froze, swiveling back around to Leah and Michelle. They all braced themselves for what was to come next. "Oh, and Michelle?" he said, looking specifically at her. "I would suggest laying off the heavy side of your Dijon rue. Gave my stomach the rumblies last year," he explained, gesturing to his stomach with a severe pain in his eyes.

"The _rumblies_?" she echoed incredulously as he walked away from them, giving one last glance to Ash and Delia out of politeness. "My food gave him the _rumblies_?"

Michelle gawked at her business partner for a reasonable explanation, but all Leah could provide was a hopeless shrug. "It's Tom terminology. What's there more to say?"

"He just criticized my food, Leah! _Our_ food! That we have cultivated and perfected for the last fifty odd years! From your mother to us! Like he's some executive chef or food writer or-"

"Michelle, Tom's opinion isn't high above any one of our other costumers."

Both women had slaved continuously over that establishment since Leah's mother's retiring and soon passing. Those recipes were born through their culinary genius minds. And to Michelle in particular, being a passionate chef as she was, insulting her food without a respectful critical eye was like someone's children being bashed. She had worked too hard for any of Tom's nonsense, especially after the stunt he pulled on Delia.

"But what if he starts telling people our food makes them get gut aches that are so bad, you have to be hospitalized?" Michelle began to panic, going to the worst case scenario.

"We just had a world renowned food critic come in March, and he praised every one of us," Leah reassured, naturally being the more level-headed one. "Loved our food to the point where he _could_ have suffered stomach pains. But he _didn't_."

The words seemed to ease Michelle. "Yeah, you're right... But still..."

Eventually, Delia and Ash made their presence known, coming to the table to help break some of the ice.

Instantly, the beginning of Ash's tanning layer did just that. "Hey," Michelle said warmly to the teenager, "looks like you got some sun."

"Yeah, I did." Ash smile drooped as he examined a twitching Michelle, arching his brow with puzzlement and worry. She was smiling, but she still looked very much nervous. "You okay?"

"Just a little Tom anxiety, that's all," Leah answered for her.

"Do you think my food is great?" she suddenly asked, panicking, followed by flying more erratic questions at the teenager. "I mean, have you ever had a_ huge_ stomachache after eating any of our food? Like the Dijon rue perhaps?"

Putting his thinking cap on, Ash paused and twisted his mouth, as if taking every creation he had ever eaten from the hands of her into consideration. "Once when I overdid it on Mom's bread pudding. But not usually, no. And I think Dijon's gross so no on that one too."

"That's… comforting," she at last said, staring blankly. Had Michelle finally suffered a mental breakdown? As she rose from her seat haphazardly, Ash almost believed she had. With curious eyes, Ash watched the round woman stroll away backwards, babbling while pointing to her destination. He had no clue what kind of trouble stirred.

"I think I'm going to go back in the kitchen and ask every one of the sous chefs if they've suffered mild to severe rumblies."

Ash's confusion furthered as Michelle disappeared hurriedly. Then, he swept his gaze to his mother and grandma for an answer. "What?"

"Just your basic Tom terminology," Leah answered again, as if it was to be expected.

That was enough in itself. But still, Ash wondered what could have made her so unglued. "Do I even want to know?" he posed again. Frankly, he wasn't sure if he did.

Ash's grandmother shook her head. "Not really."

The teenager nodded, not saying another word. An awkward silence plagued the three of them, glancing around, not sure where to carry on the conversation next. It was then Delia supposed she might as well let her mom know she and Ash weren't going to join them for dinner.

Lighting her face with a small grin of irony, Delia called for Leah's attention. "So Mom, guess who was on the phone?"

Some things never changed.

* * *

"The Pokémon Center just had to be full," Jay huffed as he and his brother drove down the evenly paved city road.

He could thank that stupid festival which drew in so much attention, that the entire entry of the center was swamped. Jay and Drake had to push their way through just to reach Nurse Joy, only for her to turn them down and for them to walk back through the chaos. It was a real mess neither one of them were expecting, and now were lost on where to hit the sack. It was only late afternoon, but soon hotels, motels, whatever, would be filled.

"Well," Jay soon sighed, his grip tight on the steering wheel, "where are we supposed to go now?"

"I'm trying to see what hotels they have around here," Drake said, his eyes solely focused on his cellphone. "But all I keep finding are places out of our price range."

That measly festival sure had brought in a large diverse mob, so large it was becoming impossible for the brothers to find any lodging. All that seemed available were high-end hotels, ones no one could afford. Apparently, _everyone_ was on a budget. Not only that, but the brand new car parked out in the airport parking-lot was another overwhelming shocker. The midnight hue tinted vehicle sat untouched and in perfect shape for them, and once Jay jingled the keys in Drake's face he knew he wasn't joking. A real car, to actually ride in and give their feet a _real_ rest... It was very much an appreciated and pleasant bonus courtesy of the Indigo League itself, ensuring their newly crowned master a safe journey over. But unless it had glass windows that could deflect bullets or super power attacks, it didn't really ensure much of anything besides a speedier ride.

Nonetheless, Drake couldn't begin to describe how the air-conditioning was sublime and how he was truly thankful for it. It was better than baking out in the hot sun on the sidewalk as they walked along tiredly. However, while Jay had earned an expensive car, he wasn't given much cash. That supposedly wouldn't happen till after the ceremony when it all was made official, in case for some reason the master had the urge to run with the money and not _claim_ the title. A car but not much cash? Drake didn't fully understand the system, and didn't bother asking why.

"There is one place, though, that might be under our budget. And it is close by," the trainer soon explained, though he held back from saying more. He had accessed the website of that business, and skimmed through it a few times before dare mentioning to Jay. It was really their only option.

"At this rate, I'm willing to stay anywhere as long as I can rest my feet," Jay stated, feeling the aches in his body.

"Well I wouldn't say that just yet," his little brother urged. "How do you feel about staying at a bed and breakfast?"

"Aggh! A bed and breakfast is the best thing you can offer?" Jay moaned, not losing his cool, but enough to feel a shiver of repugnance. "They're like for retired couples who carry all their stuff in fanny packs and show pictures of their grand-kids to complete strangers."

It was the reaction Drake had expected.

"Since when is a bed and breakfast beneath you?"

"It's not," the master sighed. "It's just..." How could he put it? "Leah and Delia were never ones to advocate a 'bed and breakfast' vibe, you know? So I suppose I'm kind of anti-that now too."

A scoff flew from Drake's mouth. The explanation was rather predictable and in a sense understanding. However, was it really necessary for his wife and mother-in-law's views on bed and breakfasts to reflect on him and Drake simply staying for one _measly_ night?

"I can't believe I'm saying their business view on running an inn was a bad influence on you," the trainer declared, shaking his head. "At least in this case."

"Why? 'Cause I'm being uncooperative?" Jay mocked, making a face as he watched the road. "It's fine, we'll go there," he huffed loudly, seeing as he was too tired to put up a fuss. "Just tell me where I need to go."

"Let me pull up the directions." With a quick few clicks, Drake pulled up the directions in no time, watching what road they were on and matching it to the directions given on his phone. "You'll need to make a left on the next turn, then go straight and then another right on _Fisher's Lane_, and _then_ we should be there. It should have a big sign by the front gate. You can't miss it."

Jay raised his eyebrows, surprised, quickly glancing to his brother. "That easy?"

"That easy."

"Well, that makes things simple." Jay watched the road carefully, waiting for the left he was supposed to take. "What's it called, anyway?"

"_Kegs and Hops Bed and Breakfast,_" Drake informed. "Apparently, it is well-known for its various beers, a small pub, and flourishing gardens. It says every night they have a beer tasting that is hosted by the innkeepers as well as brewmasters."

A beer tasting, huh? With both men having a fondness for an occasional drink, it certainly was up their alley and the atmosphere sounded serene enough for it not to be filled with a bunch of drunk, overweight, wealthy men. It wasn't a typical bed and breakfast, which was innovative to attract other guests besides couples over sixty.

"Well at least it doesn't have a cutesy name. And there's beer," Jay managed to highlight with a subtle grin. Then, his eyes hardened again, catching sight of a sign. "Is this the left I'm supposed to turn on?"

His brother nodded. "Yeah."

As Jay turned swiftly, Drake shoved his phone in his back pocket, soon pulling out a brochure he managed to snag at the front desk of the Pokémon Center. And not only had the center run out of rooms, but they also were running out of those flimsy folded papers too. "Looks like the festival's holding a lot of events," the trainer commented, skimming through all pages, "and even some acts from out of town."

"Any close to home?" Jay casually asked, referring to Pallet.

"Well, there is an act coming from Cerulean." Drake read the text a bit closer, and then shot a look at his brother. "Have you heard of the Sensational Cerulean Sisters?"

Jay wanted to snort at how ridiculous it sounded. "I think so. Aren't they the former gym leader's daughters?"

"I believe so." Drake attention traveled back to the brochure, feeling brave enough not to get car sick and to read some of the information out loud. "It says they do underwater ballet shows, and apparently their youngest sister, the gym leader, came with them for a panel to give tips on training water Pokémon."

"Really?" Jay said, somewhat earnestly surprised.

"Yeah. I don't think we'll want to see the water show, but I think hearing what the gym leader has to say might be interesting."

That was fair enough. Ballet wasn't something either man indulged in, and had had their fill when living with their parents. All those plays and musicals Emily in particular made the family go to, whether they were strictly performed by the local dance company Annie and Zelda attended, or a theater with a professional cast. The time Drake recalled going to one of those was when he was fourteen. It was the _Nutcracker,_ and he could hardly sit still between all the long dance numbers, the frilly costumes, and the need to empty his bladder but the theater attendants insisted nature had to wait till the end of act two or whatever it was. That was enough to turn him away from most live performances, and Jay too had his own fill and own personal stories.

Jay's eyebrows narrowed as he continued to focus on the road. "Last time I checked, the gym leader is a teenage girl. I don't think what she'll be saying is anything we haven't heard before."

Okay, so he wasn't up for the water show or the panel. But Drake didn't think it was compulsory to turn down both events.

"Okay fine, you make a point," the islander agreed as an equally trained and informed trainer. "But at least it's a good way to kill some time. She seems like a smart young lady and from what the brochure says, people have enjoyed her panel."

A smart young lady... Jay wondered if that was just the publicist's way of inflating the water gym leader's talents and brains for attracting amateurs thirsty for tips, or if this girl really knew her stuff. He was, after all, well informed in the training business and had learned plenty of it all on his own with just his Pokémon and his natural instincts and connections on the road. However, it wasn't as if Jay's pride was so strong he'd snub anyone else experienced in the field. It was just that they only had so much time, and if it was going to be wasted it should at least be wasted to their benefit... He probably was overthinking it, and in the end of his inner monologue there really wasn't any harm in listening to the girl. It would at least secure the hope that young trainers still had wits and skills.

"Fine, but we won't stick around for long," he at last agreed, but stayed reserved on the matter.

Drake nodded with a sigh, none to his surprise. "I know, I know."

Eventually, after heading straight for a good while and making that tricky right, the brothers arrived at their destination. There was confusion, however, by the lack of a sign Drake promised would be there, and by the slight change of decor and color on the building. Regardless, the pair pulled into the driveway, examining the property through the car windows themselves.

"So is this the place?" Jay threw a glance to his brother for verification as they remained seated in the car.

"Guess so. But..." Fingers fidgeted with the phone as Drake shot his gaze down, double-checking he hadn't made a misstep. But he hadn't. Then, he flew his eyes back up. "Looks different from what we saw online."

"Maybe they have a new owner?" the master suggested.

"Maybe. I guess there's only one way to find out."

From there, they wandered aimlessly with their small bundle of luggage in tow, finding the entryway of the establishment to be the opposite of what they expected. It was very drab. Boring dark shades, but with vibrant patterns on wallpaper and outdated designs on furniture that screamed inspiration from a time where governesses and carriages were present. It was certainly not what they were expecting.

The pair wandered their gaze across the room with befuddled looks.

"What are we, in the eighteen-hundreds?" Jay grumbled, loud enough for his brother to hear, though.

However, before Drake could reply a presence scurried around the corner and soon settled behind a big wooden desk completed with a calendar, business cards, a bell, a phone, and a large bouquet of dried up hydrangeas. It was a woman, older than the two men standing before her, with dishwater blonde hair and faint wrinkles accompanying her face. She wore matronly clothes and bore a bob with bangs that went straight across her forehead. Clearly, she was behind a couple of decades pertaining to style and dress.

"Well, hello there!" the older woman called in a friendly tone. "My name is Nancy. How can I help you gentlemen?"

"We need a room for two please," Drake spoke up as they approached the desk, "and just it's for one night."

"Okie dokie, I can for that for you! And are you paying with cash or-"

"Debit."

"Alrighty then."

Once Drake pulled the card out of his wallet, Nancy took it promptly, scanning it and punching in the total. Jay's eyes kept wandering around the room, an unsettling feeling riding in the pit of his stomach. This was definitely _not_ what he was expecting.

"Um," he spoke up, adjusting his throat, "we noticed that the place is a little different. _Very_ different."

"Have you been here before?" the older woman probed, beaming up at him.

Jay shook his head. "Oh, no. We just perused the site. And it um, well-" he paused, biting back the words he wanted to say as he examined the area, "it didn't quite look like this."

"I see. I'm the new owner, but my staff and I haven't had a chance to change the site yet, but we sure will get to it!" Nancy clarified with a little too much peppiness that it almost sounded unnatural. "The owners before went bankrupt and had to sell the place, so we've been busy bees trying to refurbish it!"

Never did either Drake or Jay imagine hearing the proclamation of bankruptcy in such an upbeat and enthusiastic tone.

"Really?" Drake asked, trying to remain affable.

"Oh, yes. Wasn't it wacky?" she suddenly said, referring to the establishment before her. "Interesting you know, but a little too wahoo! It was just too risqué, I don't care for beer. It attracts the wrong crowd. I don't think it really fits a breakfast in bed vibe."

Well, she sure didn't mind throwing out her opinion, nor bothered to care how anyone else took it.

Jay faintly smiled back with a sarcastic hint. "No, you wouldn't want to do anything out of the norm."

"Okay, room number five is all yours!" Nancy announced, handing over a key from the draw in the desk. "Welcome to the _Thornfield Hall Bed and Breakfast_." Her smile widened, her hands extended as if inviting them into the world of cotton-candy and gumdrops. They both sweat-dropped.

Jay slipped a tiny uncomfortable smile. "Unique name. I'm gonna consult with my brother for just a second," he stated, motioning his head off to the side.

He then grabbed Drake by the arm swiftly, and twirled him around leading him a few feet away from the awaiting Nancy. Hunkered down in a hunched position, Jay peered over his shoulder, finding Nancy still smiling only to have him swivel his head back with a cringe. He then drew close to his brother's ear in a soft but stern whisper.

"Let's leave this place," Jay quickly hissed.

Drake gave him an incredulous look. "And sleep where?"

"A hollow tree, a river bank, the sidewalk, I don't care!"

"This place is in our budget."

"Yes and the sidewalk is for free."

Drake sighed, feeling his soles ache under his weight. "Jay, I'm tired and I'm starving."

"She named the place after the estate in _Jane Eyre,_" he kept persisting, undeniably determined to state his case. "All she needs is a mentally ill woman locked up in one of the highest rooms, and it will successfully be in my top ten worst nightmares!" Jay added more dramatically, however, so true to the novel's content.

"And being mugged and beaten while sleeping on the sidewalk and being mistaken for a hobo is in my top ten," the trainer rebutted, feeling this was an utter waste of time. While Jay may have made valid reasons as to why they _shouldn't_ stay, it didn't discourage Drake enough to turn away. And certainly didn't make him feel as if there was an unstable being secured in a room no one knew about.

With a stomach begging for nutrients and seeing he was getting nowhere, Jay growled sourly and flashed begrudging eyes. "Fine! Point the way to room five, please," he requested once he turned his attention back to an anxious Nancy.

The older woman bounced happily, coming around the desk towards them. "I'll take you there in just a jiffy! Let me just grab your bags-"

"Oh no, I've got mine," Jay hastily insisted, swiping the suitcase swiftly before the tips of her fingers had a chance to make contact. He had valuables in there, things Team Rocket would want, which meant they were objects he'd rather not trust in the hands of a quirky woman. So, he brilliantly fibbed an excuse. "We wouldn't want a lady such as yourself to carry burly bags that men can easily lift."

Nancy's face flushed, placing a hand over one of her cheeks. "Oh you are such a charmer, thinking about a pretty lady!" she gushed, giving the men a smile before dashing ahead of them.

Jay's facade slipped, slightly irked by the woman's reaction. "Pretty?" he repeated, looking to Drake.

He knew what Jay meant. "Don't be rude," Drake mumbled.

As they waltzed behind a chattering Nancy, the owner led the brothers down a hall before freezing in the middle of it. She ended their journey in front of a door, coaxing them in after to present their room. Though as the pair took their first step into the designated room, they were both taken aback, but one in particular accidentally released an exclaim of shock.

"-Aaah!"

Nancy twirled on her heels, looking to Jay with a greatly concerned and addled expression. "What is it, sir?"

Jay blinked, centering himself as if realizing he had been the one to let out the distracting gasp. He hadn't meant to, but the decor was just so- "Uh," he started awkwardly, kicking his brain into gear, "there's just a lot of-"

"An abundance of flowers," Drake answered for him, finding himself overwhelmed as well.

"Yeah, it's not very- well you know-"

"A masculine room-"

"For two intellectual, masculine guys," Jay finished, attempting to bare a smile that didn't speak of insult.

But it was rather hard to do so. The room was very much- hideous. Though neither man was in tune with decorations, they had enough sense to see what was too much or too little. All the walls were covered in dark green wallpaper, with vibrant violet and blue tinted flowers cascading in all directions down the walls, consuming the room in one disastrous sea of distaste. Thankfully, though, the bedspreads consisted of mundane shades, relating back to the time era the establishment was trying to relate to; same with the lamps and wobbly unfinished desk and chair. But it wasn't enough to make up for the fact that no matter where one flashed their gaze, they'd be hypnotized by those taunting blooms.

"Oh don't you fret, this is completely masculine friendly," Nancy assured, ignorant to it all. "You know, I've had many men compliment this room for its calm setting. Looking at all of this helps one unwind and relax, and escape one's hectic life," she went on with her hands on her hips, and soon breathing in a scent as if actual fragrant flowers seeded themselves on the walls. "Like you're actually in a field of flowers."

Jay begged to differ.

"Uh, I don't know about that-"

"I've gotten so many compliments on this room in general, that it makes me want to change the bed cover with more flowers."

"No, I think there's enough," Drake insisted this time, feeling the start of throbbing eyes. "Just enough."

Dismissing their comments as if she never heard them, Nancy flashed another foolish grin in attempt to make conversation. "Say, what business are you two in, anyway?"

Jay's eyes hastily traveled to Drake for help, but all he got was a blank stare. Those flowers were just so distracting. So he conjured up his own little tale. "Uh, well my brother is an-" _something boring_, Jay thought with a harmless snicker. "An accountant and I am a writer."

"A writer? What kind of stories do you write?" Nancy exclaimed, intrigued, and while she did so Drake shot his big brother a disapproving look. An _accountant_ and _he_ got to be the writer? He didn't fit the accountant vibe! Did he appear to be wearing glasses, styling a bow tie, _and_ holding a calculator?

"Oh you know, murder mysteries, suspense/thrillers," Jay answered as if he had written for years. "My current project focuses on the premise of a man who is staying at a bed and breakfast, much like this, and he's on the run thanks to a crime boss who has been hunting him down for the last ten years because he killed his mother who was the original founder of their mad organization. I'm getting good feedback on it from my editor."

Drake scoffed under his breath. Unbelievable._ Completely_ unbelievable.

Way to be inventive.

"My, my!" the older woman exclaimed, as if truly scared. "That sounds spooky and very- outlandish!"

Jay bit his lip, then formed a tiny smirk with trailing eyes. "Well, it's not as far-fetched as it sounds-"

"Now if you need anything you just ring down, or come down," Nancy suddenly announced, already jumping to another topic. However, her eyes traveled to an absentminded Drake, catching him off guard with another silly smile. "I don't mind the company."

Jay repressed a snort, holding himself together while she went off to mention another thing. "Oh, and I wanted to give you our activity list! Never a dull moment around here!"

"That's okay," Drake said politely, holding a hand up, "we're just staying for one night-"

"Oh no, I insist! I'm sure you'll find something you'll want to do while you're here." She nearly shoved the flimsy piece of paper into Drake's grasp, and then before he could try to return it she ventured to the door. "Now, I will leave you two to get settled. Enjoy the list!"

Drake looked down at the paper. Crosshatching and bird watching. Fun. "Oh sure. Thanks."

"Thank you," Jay added.

Right then, Nancy finally made her grand exit with a little wave. Then, as the door clicked shut, both men let out a heavy sigh.

Before a minute passed, a mischievous twinkle sparked in Jay's eyes and soon he grew a similar grin at his little brother. "I think Nancy was giving you the eye with that friendly invite," he warned, stirring trouble.

A huff flew out of Drake's mouth with a narrowing of brows. "Shut up." He knew Jay was joking, albeit he didn't need to be reminded that he was somehow a girl magnet... to the young_ and_ old. And to girls he wasn't falling for. With another sigh, Drake ventured across the condensed room and slumped at the end of his now chosen bed, staring down at the floor with a stretch of his arms. "Well, at the very least we can be assured that Giovanni's goons won't come looking here," he said, folding his arms and placing his hands behind his head.

"No one in their _right mind_ would come looking here," Jay countered, still standing.

That was about the only thing in their good graces presently. Team Rocket would never suspect two grown men to venture off to a bed and breakfast, especially one like this. In a sense, the Pokémon Center being completely full had done them a favor, preventing villains from crashing into their rooms and possibly other trainers' as well.

Striving to find something else to stare at that wouldn't give him a migraine, Drake's gaze led him to what appeared to be a large shallow book on top of the worn desk.

He rose slightly from his seat, taking a step forward. Then, he identified the object. "Hey, look. There's a guest book."

Jay raised an eyebrow. "People actually wrote in it?"

"Looks like it." He joined Drake at his side, watching his younger brother flip the guest book open to a random page. And surprisingly, there were signatures and descriptions. Eventually, Drake's eyes fixated on one in particular. "Hmm... here's one: This room brought utter peace to my soul. I have never felt so cleansed before in my life."

"Yuck!" Jay childishly spat, turning his head away only to stare at another display of hideous decor.

"Here's another one: My wife and I had many splendorous nights during our stay. One of those nights in particular brought upon the conception of our-"

"Stop, stop! Stop right there!" The waving of Jay's arms and his demanding hollers stopped Drake abruptly, barely realizing what he was reading till the near end of the sentence. A loud scoff of disgust bounced out of his mouth. "God, what is wrong with people?"

"Why would anyone want to do it in here?" Drake inquired seriously, setting the book down. It wasn't his intention to read _that,_ and never wished to bring up the subject of those abhorrent flowers again.

"You'd have to be drunk and blind to want to. I don't even think someone as old as Nana would like this room, and she's getting up there!" Jay compared, gawking at the room once more.

"No one in their _right mind_ would like this room."

Jay just huffed at that, his displeasure and sheer shock seeping through his tone and words. "Yeah, well tell that to Granny: I hate beer and it should burn in eternal damnation, but I'm gonna name my bed and breakfast after a place most people would run the opposite direction from. God, who names an establishment after a Bronte sister's novel?" he asked, though his question wasn't intended on being answered. "That just screams for a ghost who is forced to walk the earth eternally for their misdeed!" A step forward immediately snapped Jay's train of thought, finding the front of his right foot balancing along a shaky broad with loose nails. His eyes widened, trouble sparking in his eyes again. "Oh, wouldn't you know?" he said, looking to Drake while wiggling the broad. "This floorboard is loose! I wonder if _Nancy_ knows about this-"

"Stop," Drake ordered firmly. "This isn't the work of Poe, either."

He wasn't about to be led to believe that the owner of the establishment had someone buried underneath their room either. And that they'd start hearing what sounded similar to a pounding heart.

Jay made a face. "Why do you have to squash my jokes?"

"Because they're inappropriate."

"Inappropriately hilarious_ and_ true," he corrected.

"_Partially_ true," Drake rephrased in return. "Listen Jay, we'll be going to the festival soon enough, which means we will hardly spend any time in here."

The festival... Now that looked like a blessing to Jay, too. Even with going to an overcrowded attraction and sleeping in a room that would give one nightmares, Jay supposed some luck was on their side. After all, there was no Team Rocket.

For now.

"Thank God for that," grumbled Jay, trying to shake off the indescribable feeling he had for the room. But could not. "I still can't fathom how anyone can get their freak on in here."


	3. Revelations

**Author's Note: **

Hey everyone! Things are finally starting to get a move on in this chapter, and may I say this will especially be a treat to any Pokeshippers out there! Subtle but important hints they are! ;) Please enjoy, and thank you for reading!

**RESPECTFUL, HELPFUL, and POLITE reviews/constructive criticism are welcome only!**

**DISCLAIMER:** Pokémon belongs to Satoshi Tajiri. My oc's belong to me.

* * *

**Sunlight's Return**

**Chapter 3**

_Revelations_

"See anything?"

"Nothing yet."

"He's supposed to be here."

"Maybe his flight was delayed."

Cassidy shot her partner a sharp look beneath teal tainted sunglasses. "It _wasn't_, Biff. God, I'm tired of watching for nothing," she moaned, clenching her now cold cup of coffee. Then, her eyes intensified aggressively, focusing once again on the heap of people roaming and chattering before them. The crowd they were supposed to blend in with without any suspicious eyes. "Those idiots better have gotten the right city or I swear I'll send back a report of their insolence to the boss."

And Cassidy wasn't pussy-footing around. Just two weeks ago Giovanni approached the two agents on an important mission, a mission he was now handing over to them._ Entrusting_ them to complete the task with zero nonsense and delay. Ten years of waiting had been long enough, and Giovanni's patience had finally run dry. And they got the violent, passionate end of it with his hatefulness towards the man who had been causing him nothing but trouble. Project H their boss called it... Neither Cassidy nor her partner had ever heard of it before, realizing then that it was a top secret project, only for the best of the best to take part in. Which made their place on the food chain clear. So between their boss's serious words and the retired Brimble's fair amount of warnings, it was evident to Cassidy and her male companion that this expedition wasn't going to be any cakewalk. Tons of research, filling their brains on every little detail about their target through endless reports, what he possessed, what he knew, what he was capable of, was exactly how they recently spent their time. That is, till the grunts assigned beneath them informed the duo that their prey was located and that he apparently purchased a flight over to Fuchsia. And not just for himself.

But for someone else as well.

With an irritated huff, Butch sucked in a deep breath of the cool air of the airport lobby, scanning his eyes over to the side with a faint grumble. "It's _Butch_..." He and Cassidy had been teammates for close to_ six years_, and even at that she could never get his name correct. Nor could anyone for that matter. Nevertheless, no matter how many instances he had been called by other names, the aggravation from being called Biff to Chuck could not waver.

Turning his focus back on the sea of people, Butch was suddenly blindsided by a speedy thin object that crashed directly into his face. Stumbling back with his own cup of swishing chilled coffee, he removed the item off his face, finding it to be nothing but some pesky flyer that probably escaped the hands of a tourist. He blinked, shaking his head from the surprise, and soon began to read.

Then, his eyes widened.

"Hey, Cassidy," Butch motioned, waving the paper. "Look at this."

Cassidy whipped her gold locks around, glaring in exasperation at her partner. "Arrgh, what is it now?!" she griped, impatient from all the inactive waiting.

"Look for yourself."

Keeping himself from losing his own cool, he handed the paper over to his teammate, only for her snatch it from his grasp as if he was nothing but an annoyance. At first, Cassidy presumed it was an ad for a local restaurant. After all, Butch had been whining about his rumbling stomach, even after she permitted them to glance away long enough to snag an iced coffee and a bran muffin. Though to her surprise- once she started to read, Cassidy's expression lightened quickly, looking back to her partner with a plain stare.

"A festival," she said.

This caused Butch to smirk, taking a sip of his drink. "Bet a lot of trainers will be there. And perhaps_ him_, too. You said the guys claimed he bought a plane ticket to Fuchsia, so maybe he's already here. At that festival. After all," he continued methodically, gesturing towards a pair of excited kids with matching Caterpie, "that festival is specifically for Pokémon trainers and fans."

Instantly, Butch caused Cassidy to grin the biggest grin she had in weeks. "Good thinking," she praised, looking up from the paper. "A festival would be the perfect hiding place, especially at night."

"And if nothin' else, we could nab whatever Pokémon we find at that silly festival," Butch added, matching her smile.

"True," Cassidy agreed. Then, her eyes gravitated back down, her attention solely absorbed in the graphic art and bold words across the flyer. "But I have a feeling our true target is there. Hiding right underneath our noses."

* * *

Evening hours crept closer to the small town of Pallet, but the bright cast of sun rays streamed predominately by summer's reign.

It was a few minutes till six, the warmth of the dimming light still going strong with sweltering dwellers on earth. Shrubs lay in a prestigious driveway, busy soaking in the light pouring from the sky, and the sways of perfectly trimmed grass moved by soft gusts of pleasant winds.

Nothing on the Ketchum estate had changed. Not from what Ash could tell.

The teenager's observant eyes loomed over the familiar surroundings, smiling a little to himself and then faltering. There was something strange swirling inside of Ash, something he tried to pinpoint. Standing outside of his grandparents' small mansion brought upon memories, both bad and good. However, plenty of fond ones stood out, enough to make him marvel how many of them there were and how time had flown by. First, the glimpses of his early childhood in that house, to never entering the dwelling again, to at last, some forgiveness and acceptance for Ash to be able to introduce some of his travelling companions to his grandparents. Yes, a lot had changed.

But some things hadn't.

"Wow..." Ash gaped slightly at the large home before him, standing in his finest clothes for dinner with his mother at his side and Pikachu, resting comfortably on his shoulder. "Can't believe it's been this long since we've done this."

"Pika..." Pikachu cooed softly to himself, also admiring his surroundings.

Delia breathed in the summer air and sighed, looking up at the home herself. "I know..."

She had her own memories and feelings about the place. A lot with Ash, but some without. Most before his time. After all these years, Delia still never felt she could fully get over the feeling she was consumed with when she first stepped foot into her husband's previous home. It had felt less uncomfortable and more natural over their first few years of marriage, and yet- before Delia could fully get used to it again, a presence vanished.

A short pause of silence claimed the air, till a swift swivel of Ash's head drowned it out. "Hey Mom?" he called.

Delia's gaze didn't shift, but she listened attentively. "Hmm?"

"Do you remember that one time we stood out here?"

In that instant, Delia's gaze broke and returned her son's question with a confused expression. "Honey, there have been several times we've stood out here."

"I mean- _You know_," Ash continued with a hint of obviousness that could not be hidden by the mischievous smile creeping on his face. "The time when Dad told that crazy fairy tale just so we had less time with Grandma and Grandpa?"

That almost made Delia laugh. The silly, but pleasant thought burst from her mind as vividly she imagined her younger self standing exactly where she was with Jay by her side, and a very short impish Ash between them begging for his dear father to finish the invigorating and witty story.

Delia smiled and looked back up to the house. A heart-string was gently tugged at the mention. "He did that often, didn't he?... What are you getting at?" she suddenly asked with peculiarity.

At that moment, Ash's gaze flew to the other side, shyly; he seemed not to want to meet her eyes. "Well, since Dad's not here-" He gulped, and looked back at her with a sheepish grin. "Could you tell a story?"

By his request, Ash would have sworn his mom would frown, but to his surprise, instead her smile remained. She fumbled a little, shaking her head with a heavy sigh. "Oh, Ash. Don't be ridiculous. You're not six anymore, and I am not about to do something so childish only to cause a bigger rift with your grandparents. Though I have to admit..."

It was Delia's turn for her eyes to trail away, putting on her own ashamed grin for saying what was about to come out of her mouth next. "It was kind of funny," she admitted.

"_And _true," Ash retorted sharply with playfulness.

Coming to terms with their reality, Ash and Delia had become much more comfortable with the topic of Jay. It wasn't mentioned daily, but constant enough for it to no longer be taboo. And of course with the discussion of Jay open for Ash, questions of his estranged father were asked, and soon followed by more questions Ash was hungry to be fed answers. This eventually led to reminiscing on both Delia's and his part. Bittersweet it was, especially for a wounded Delia, neither one couldn't help but laugh at some of the antics he pulled to make them smile.

Thinking about such, Delia's eye twinkled with a similar but fainter naughtiness her husband bore in the past. "How about you ring the doorbell?" she suggested to her son, motioning towards the door. "Like Dad did."

Ash tagged along in his mom's little scheme, his smile growing wider. "And ask if I can do impressions of them?" he asked, pushing the limits as he pressed his index finger to the doorbell.

However, before they were swept up in their reenactment, the signaling of the doorbell called upon one of Emily's maids, who opened the door rather promptly with perfect posture and an unwrinkled uniform.

Delia blinked, taken aback by the help's quick arrival. "Oh, hello."

"Madame Ketchum is expecting you," the maid simply said, her accent showing through.

"Thank you."

As they entered, the maid closed the door behind them, greeting the guests with a gush of air-conditioned temperature. Soon after that, the hired help scampered off to the kitchen, most likely where she originated from. Delia hung her purse on the nearby coat rack, while Ash stood with a puzzled look as he watched the maid disappear around the corner. Something was off.

"Grandma's going by Madame now?" he whispered more so than questioned with a raised brow.

"I guess so," his mom shrugged, just as befuddled.

It wasn't really any shock, Emily having a maid with an accent or her being called the mistress of the house, only with a different version of the title. And since she was the mistress of the house, it was only a matter of time before Delia and Ash would bump into her, or for her to come down and greet them in her luxuriously decorated home-

"Ash, Delia! You're here!"

With them still standing quietly in the entryway, Emily beat them to the chase. Heads turning, they spotted the older woman at the top of the staircase. She had a smile so big on her face as she pranced down the steps, Ash wondered if he had ever seen his grandma grin like that.

Ash smiled back warmly as his grandmother approached them. "Hi Grandma. Thank you for having us over."

Nothing of Emily's appearance had made a drastic transformation, other than subtle wrinkles only a tad obvious to the naked eye. She still kept her dark brown locks in a shorter haircut, highlighting the strands with a dark red, which graced slightly past the mid-section of her neck, and her overpriced wardrobe was precise with matching colors. Very plain, but elegantly made.

Emily shot her grandson another radiant smile, and nodded. "You're welcome, dear. Come! Come!" she soon coaxed, leading the pair to the foyer eagerly. "We have so much to catch up on. I am dying to know all the details!" However, she abruptly halted in her footsteps, causing Ash and Delia to do the same. With taking in a breath, Emily's voice unexpectedly boomed to the other side of the house. "Richard, Ash and Delia are here!"

Ash and Delia turned their heads.

"I'll be there in a moment, Emily!" the three heard Richard call back, muffled but understandable enough behind the closed door of his private study.

That wasn't much of a shocker either. Richard was practically glued to that study, for work or recreational purposes. And in most instances he was alone.

Smiling faintly to himself, Ash looked back to Emily, forgetting to mention the even-tempered creature riding his shoulder. "You remember Pikachu, don't you Grandma?" he said, motioning towards his loyal animal with a scratch underneath the mouse's chin.

For a moment, Emily's smile slipped, but she withheld her opinion. "Yes, of course I do," she answered, regaining her pleasant tone. "I don't suppose you are willing to leave him in the back till we are through with dinner, are you?"

Ash glanced at his furry companion and shrugged. They had been through this before. "Wherever Pikachu goes, I go."

"Well," Emily sighed, seeing no real reason to argue, "just keep him off the furniture. I'll have Madeline fetch him a blanket to lie on."

When her children still resided in their first home, Richard's parents saw to it that their grandchildren had some kind of Pokémon for them to nurture and to be instill a little responsibility. To teach them to take care of another life. Of course, none of the children objected to such an offer, especially as a birthday present, sending Emily out and about to find the best Pokémon breeders. Over the years, her rugs and furniture mildly suffered from dog-like creatures racing about and laying every which way as if they were entitled. And as the least bit thrilled she was of having animals all over her house, seeing Ash standing there ever so happy- well, there was no point in refusing him. Not after all his time.

After her proposal, Emily called loudly again, only it was her maid Madeline to appear, rushing back with soft footsteps to her employer.

"Madeline," Emily started sternly.

"Oui Madame Ketchum?" the young woman bid.

"Go get a blanket from the utility closet for my grandson's-" She glanced at Pikachu and swallowed. "Rodent."

The maid nodded. "Oui Madame Ketchum."

With hurried but fluid steps, the maid took action and made way to her destination for the necessary blanket. Happy for her hired help's diligent work for once, Emily focused her gaze back to her daughter-in-law and grandson.

"That was Madeline, our new maid from Kalos," she explained, as if it was so normal. "She's fluent in French and in English and is constantly on the ball of things. Very much refreshing."

Delia nodded, not an ounce amazed by the hiring of a foreigner. "I see."

"Well enough about that, let's go into the sitting room and chat. Shall we?"

Already hurrying everything along, Emily started to make the way to the living room for her company, only to hear footsteps of another follow behind them. She recognized the sound and faint vibration, twirling to find her husband dressed as pristinely as usual, while shoving his glasses into the upper pocket of his jacket.

Emily smiled. "Ah, Richard. Glad to see you finally made an appearance out of that study of yours. I was beginning to think you were officially making it your new home."

"I was coming as fast I could," he explained, a little annoyed. "I was in the middle of settling a deal with Slateport."

"Well Slateport can wait. Look who came to visit!" she announced buoyantly, gesturing to their guests.

All the same by their arrival, Richard kept the same calm expression. "I can see, Emily, and I'm very glad they're both here." He turned his attention to their guests, at last wearing a faint smile. "How are you Ash, Delia? Pikachu?" he had to include with a soft chuckle. "I hope well."

"Good," Ash replied.

"Very good," Delia added.

Seeing the polite hellos were officially complete, Emily strutted over to the drink cart (which was still parked in front of the stairwell as if it never moved) and in the process, her journey over made it everyone's subconscious cue to sit down. "Well, what can I get everyone? Scotch for you, Richard?" the older woman asked, already picking up its halfway empty bottle.

Richard's knees creaked as he sat down on the sofa, located on the right side of the room. "Please."

Filling up the glass without a single drop missing, she placed her husband's drink aside and glanced to her daughter-in-law. "And you Delia?"

"Oh, a little white wine might be nice," the woman answered over her shoulder, settling down on the opposite sofa, with Ash at her side.

"Very well." Emily's hand reached for another perfectly polished glass. And then another. "And you Ash? I presume you want a club soda?" she answered for herself, seeing he was underage to drink anyway.

Ash glanced at his grandma shortly and nodded. "Yes, please."

While Emily worked away on everyone's drinks, beginning to pass Richard's out and then Delia's, she was stopped short by Madeline and her stoic expression.

"The blanket, Madame Ketchum," she offered, holding out a soft blue, thick, folded cloth.

Ash thought it appeared too nice, almost brand new, for it to be stowed away in a utility closet. The towels and old blankets that were in the closet at home actually looked like rags. Tattered on the edges and faint mud stains. Hence: _rags_.

Emily finished passing Delia's white wine to her. "Thank you, Madeline," she praised, jaunting back over to the drink cart. "Just hand it to my grandson."

Without hesitation the maid reached across from Delia, and held out the neatly layered cloth to the only person in the room who could be her boss's grandson. After all, Emily never bothered to introduce her family formally to her workers.

Ash smiled back genuinely and grabbed the blanket. "Thanks." From there as the maid exited, he stood back up, unfolding the blanket part way, making it long but cushy enough for Pikachu to lie on. Once placing it on the unscathed carpeting by his feet, Ash removed Pikachu off his shoulder, gently putting him down with a quick scratch on the noggin.

"Now you stay here, buddy. Okay?" The trainer hated to put his precious mouse there, not up with him snuggled in his lap, but he knew if he'd pick a fight with Emily about it, things would surely not end on good terms. And he had witnessed the ugly repercussions before with his parents, which scared him enough not to push. Besides, at least Emily had the decency to give him a warm spot to cuddle in rather than outside on the patio, watching everyone talk and laugh from inside.

"Pika," the mouse cooed in agreement, already making himself at home.

This made Ash's grin widen. If Pikachu wasn't going to fuss about it then he certainly wasn't going to.

At last coming over with her own martini and Ash's soda, Emily paused in her steps, staring at her grandson as he removed himself from his crouched position near the floor, ready to sit back down till-

"My goodness!" Emily outwardly exclaimed. Beaming with confusion, Ash looked to his grandma, only to see a bittersweet twinkle in her eye. Ash really had grown up. Grown up so handsomely into someone she knew so well. "Look at you!" she continued to marvel.

His eyes gravitated down to his ironed shirt and nice dark denim jeans, wondering if there was something wrong with him but found nothing. It appeared both Delia and Richard were catching onto Emily's words, both smiling at him with loving eyes. What was with everyone?

"You've just grown up so much," Emily at last explained. Finally understanding, Ash released a smile and nodded, thinking he was allowed to sit down only to be stopped again. "Turn around, turn around!" his grandmother ordered fervently, having him lazily move in a circle, feeling a little awkward. "My God Richard, look at him! Look how tall he's gotten!"

"He's a spitting image of a fine Ketchum man," Richard noted, smiling softly.

"Isn't he?" Emily went on as Ash stopped in his tracks. "And I think the smile helps."

Delighting in the praise, a soft chuckle leaped from Ash's throat. Okay, so he understood where they were coming from. They were his grandparents after all, relishing his great stride in maturity and awestruck by how fast time had flown. Everyone had felt that way, and Ash had to admit, he kind of liked the attention.

"I bet there are plenty of girls who you have caught the eye of," Emily hypothesized, seeing he bared the Ketchum features.

Ash shrugged modestly. "If I have I wouldn't know."

This made Emily laugh. "Oh, you are still as humble as ever!" Eventually, the older woman handed over Ash's soda and soon found a place beside her husband. Though she wasn't through staring at her grandson in amazement. "Doesn't he look like him, Richard? I mean really, doesn't he?"

Ash sat back down, intrigued. "Like who?"

Like he needed to ask.

"Like my father, Mordecai," Richard replied, "which would make him your great-grandfather."

"Oh."

That was a first.

"But you still bear a resemblance to Richard," Emily noted thoughtfully.

Her husband nodded in agreement. "Oh very much so, but I think it's the nose. It's that dominatant Ketchum blood."

Ash scrunched his face, his eyes darting to the snout they insisted was inherited by his paternal great-grandfather's genes. To him it was just a nose. No comparison to really anyone else's.

"Yes! It is! We will have to send an updated picture of him to your mother, so she can see," Ash's grandmother proposed, enthused by her own idea. "You have pictures, don't you Delia?"

"I can give Esther some more recent ones," Delia promised, taking her first sip.

"Wonderful!"

"I couldn't agree more!"

The enthusiasm for his heritage and sending his picture in the mail to his great-grandmother was quite pleasant, however... Sitting beside himself, Ash felt rather addled by Emily and Richard's statement of similarity. He always knew Ketchum features ran deep in the family. His Aunt Annie bared more of the Evans blood from Emily, but Zelda surely resembled a Ketchum too. And of course there was his dad... The person Ash had forever been compared to. For his good qualities inside and out.

Observing the ice cubes slosh by the movement of his hand, Ash piped up, breaking Emily and Richard's continual chatter. "Do I really look like him?" the teenager questioned with curious brown eyes. "'Cause I always thought I looked like Dad out of everyone."

Silence fell, and so did the smiles on his grandparent's faces. Stone expressions were cast instead, a restless tension rising through the air that pricked everyone's skin. Delia tried to bare a small smile, seeing she saw no reason to dismiss her son's thoughts, and what she considered to be true. On the contrary, Emily appeared severely cold and distant, as if her emotions just changed within a split-second of her estranged son's mention.

Richard on the other hand, did his best to remedy the situation. Even if it wasn't flawless.

"Well of course you look like your father, Ash," the teenager's grandfather said. "It's just your appearance reminded us of my father."

There appeared to be a slight agitation in Richard's voice, mostly from Emily's obvious state of discomfort, rather than Ash's bold claim. Nevertheless, Ash didn't push any further and nodded somewhat uncomfortably.

"O-okay."

"Yes, you do look awfully like-_ him_." Emily's sudden bitter agreement surprised all three of them. "Except you aren't frowning, or continuously checking the clock for you to conveniently leave."

Then it didn't.

Her grandson made a face. "Sorry?"

Richard waved his hand, immediately dismissing the futile apology. "Don't be. Now let's get down to business. How was your journey in its entirety?"

Finally, a more relaxing subject to discuss. Exerting an exhale, Ash's muscles grew less tense as did the anxiousness in his voice. Discussing the thing he knew best and always eased his anxiety.

"It was amazing," the trainer replied, experiencing the euphoria of his travels in one rush. "I don't really know where to start!"

"Caught more Pokémon, I presume?" Richard continued to pursue.

"A good few."

"But not too many?" the older man pressed, brows arched.

Ash laughed softly. "Nope. Not too many."

A pleased smile spread across Richard's lips. "Smart boy. It's quality over quantity. I was never the kind of trainer to catch every Pokémon I saw. I took in consideration what Pokémon were needed to build a proper team, and what kinds I already had. I hope you consider these things."

"I try to."

It was Richard's turn to laugh. "Fair enough."

It wasn't long till Emily felt well enough to jump back into the conversation, an attempt to lighten her damp spirits, to ensure a positive evening. She had, of course, been looking forward to Ash's return and for her and Richard to have a chance at reconnecting with him.

After taking a quick sip, she proceeded with another smug look of confidence. "Speaking of another young man who has matured handsomely and talks of travel, Gary is in town as well."

Ash nearly choked on his soda. "Gary?" he echoed, adjusting his stinging throat by the carbonation.

Delia never mentioned Gary was back in town. But with her being so busy at the inn, she most likely hadn't noticed. Not like Gary would pay a visit there anyway.

"Oh yes, he's been here for a couple of weeks now after finishing his internship with Prof. Rowan," Ash's grandmother started to elucidate with zeal. "He's been so highly praised by the man, that he's now taking some classes on various Pokémon research held at Viridian's community college for upcoming researchers. Predominately, though, he'll be studying fossil records. He actually came to see us-" she turned to her husband briefly. "What was it, Richard? Four days or so ago?"

"I believe so. He brought a very nice young lady with him too."

This only furthered Emily's enthusiasm as she gazed back at her guests. "Very nice! Well spoken, nicely dressed, and such a thoughtful girl too. She was kind enough to bring Richard and me a gift."

Delia nearly wanted to laugh out of spite on the last part. When she so graciously brought them a homemade peach pie, Emily snubbed her. So much for a warm welcome when first entering the home of her boyfriend's parents. And that wasn't even the worst of it. Nonetheless, Delia was glad Emily had somewhat loosened up since then. Even though if she only accepted Gary's supposed girlfriend because she met all of Emily's qualifications.

"What's her name?" Delia inquired.

"Her name is Harper," her mother-in-law replied. "They met in one of his classes. It seems they really hit it off," she added, a sparkle in her eyes as she gulped down another helping of her martini.

"Annie and Chad are happy with her," Richard bothered to mention, equally as delighted over the news.

"Who could blame them? Next to researching, she's the best thing that ever happened to Gary. I'm sure you'd get along well with her, Ash."

A girlfriend. The thought of someone tolerating Gary to such a level almost made Ash burst with chuckles. Like Ash himself, Gary had matured incredibly since his bully years. Not entirely different, but plenty different for him and Ash to reach some kind of peace on their end of ridiculous squabbles. And apparently, he had matured greatly to make a girl enjoy his company. To be so successful and praised in a field he was just beginning to chase after. But when was Gary not well liked and achieving higher things than the norm?

Ash nodded, a lack of excitement in his voice. "Yeah. I'm sure she's nice."

"Gary is supposed to be staying for the whole summer, so perhaps you two could catch up. Your mother tells us things have gotten better between the two of you."

Another nod followed, never denying a word his grandpa presumed. All the unnecessary fighting, hurtful words had faded for the most part, and now both he and Gary got on with their lives. However, they were still striving to be the best in their field of expertise. Yet why- why did Ash feel as if Gary was still ahead of him? Even if things had changed to a degree?

"Oh, yeah," Ash in time replied, feeling suddenly lowly and unsure. "Yeah, I guess they have."

* * *

The festival was just as lively and bombastic as Jay and Drake expected.

Not only were there various events hosted by Pokémon-based foundations/speakers for dedicated trainers (for that was its sole purpose for revenue), but there was a plentiful amount of attractions consisting from roller coasters, to Ferris wheels, water rides, and even a drop tower. None in which Jay wanted to participate in, however. He had experienced plenty of exhilarating and heart-pounding activities, which he wished not to repeat unless it was his last choice of survival. Thankfully, with understanding, Drake didn't push his brother, though it did limit greatly as to how they were going to spend their time. The brothers had tragically missed the panel by the time the pair escaped the hands of Nancy and fellow guests', of what they called an enticing round of _Clue_. And it was a special edition too! Nevertheless, the brothers made it out of the bed and breakfast unscathed, and journeyed just in time for the last showing of the underwater ballet performance. And it was either watch that or go to the nearby petting zoo that was set up for kids under the age of ten.

So they buried their painful childhood memories, and attended the show. To both their surprises, it wasn't too terrible. Actually, the effects and training of Pokémon was rather impressive, not to mention the skill the swimmers demonstrated under all the pressure of gawking eyes and lack of air. The story-line on the other hand...well, it was cliché, but simple and thoughtful enough for Jay to stomach without feeling he had been sucked into a teenage girl's favorite romance novel. Concrete and less on the level of extreme sappiness for the brothers to grab some dinner at the local dining hall, holding all kinds of traditional fair food. And to make up for the big letdown of their lodging earlier, Drake went out of his way to buy them each a beer as well, washing down the remaining bits of their dinner, while keeping casual conversations going.

But soon, Jay grew testy. Dark skies were beginning to fall upon the festival, fireworks being set off in the distance. Night was growing near.

Glimpsing around the big dining area, Jay's eyes narrowed. "We've been here for over four hours," he commented, looking to his brother and setting his finished beer down. "You've had your fun, now let's get out of here."

"We can stay a little longer," Drake pushed. _He_ was still in the middle of his drink.

But all he got was sterner icy blue eyes and an uncooperative tone. "No we _can't_, Drake. I told you, staying in place for too long never ends with a good result. I can't believe I'm saying this, but we need to head back to that God awful bed and breakfast."

Huffing, Drake submitted without a fight. He had pressed his desires of a real vacation enough on his worrisome brother already. "Fine," he breathed, reaching into his back pocket. "Just let me leave a tip."

"Well, hurry up," Jay ordered, already rising from his seat.

Feeling rushed, Drake slammed a few loose bills to the table and with a swift rise and turn out of his seat, he accidentally rammed into the shoulder of another person. Staggering backwards, the trainer refocused his gaze, finding a slightly off-balanced, young pink-haired woman before him.

"Oh!- I'm so sorry," he said sincerely, approaching her with genuine concern. "Are you all right?"

"I'm fine," she whimpered, rubbing her bare shoulder. She looked oddly familiar to him, and once her unsteady sapphire eyes centered on the islander, they quivered with a shock that spoke of one reaction he had seen too many times before. But was never prepared for. With a soft gasp, the young lady's lips bloomed into a big smile, her hands clasping into excited fists, squealing in utter delight. "Oh my gosh! You're like him! You're actually him!"

Drake's forehead wrinkled. "Excuse me?"

Ignoring his reply, the woman released another loud squawk of adoration. That voice, that face, those mighty arms... Drake's voice was like music to her ears it caused her legs to turn to Jell-O. Swiveling lightly on her feet, the woman cupped a hand around her mouth, and used her other to wave in the air to draw attention from a short distance. "Daisy, Violet!" she called excitedly in a valley-girl accent. "You won't believe who I like just met!"

Instantly, two other women appeared as they pushed through the dense gathering area, reacting in similar manners as they caught sight of Drake standing before them. With graceful but hurried feet, they rushed to his side.

"No way!" the dark blue-haired young woman exclaimed, clasping her hands together in admiration at his side. "You're like Drake! Drake of the Orange Crew!"

Drake nodded steadily, watching them all closely. "Yes, I am."

At that point, Jay released a growl of irritation. This is what he got for asking his brother to accompany him. Not only did Drake have a swarm of fans, but the fan-base seemed typically consisting of- girls. Not all, but a good majority probably liked him solely for his looks rather than his brains. But who could blame them? Drake was attractive, sweet, kind, and a skilled trainer to top it all off. He always gave off the aura of being a typical person just like anyone else. Not some self-absorbed celebrity with an addiction or ego problem. He was someone to admire, easy to like. However, as glad as Jay was that his little brother did not get sucked into the world of egocentric folk, he did not appreciate that Drake never tried to draw boundaries. He was too shy. At this rate, Jay figured he might as well take on the role of bodyguard to shoo those drooling fan-girls away.

"It is like an honor to meet you! I'm Lily," the woman with the pink hair introduced herself, feeling brave enough to lay her fingers against his wrist. She shivered with blushing cheeks. "I'm guessing you saw me from my sisters' show? That's why you came here, right? You heard about our tour? I can tell you're like a cultured man!"

The islander nodded again, awkwardly keeping his composure. "I did see your show, yes." Even with fans back home, everyone on Pummelo knew who Drake was and treated him like a normal human being. He should have expected as much being outside of home-turf for admirers to leech onto him.

"Wow!" Lily continued to gush. "So you did actually come to our show! That's like totally awesome!"

"Did you like it?" another woman abruptly asked, before Drake had a chance to slip away. Instead, she took a step closer, standing inches away from his face with an adoring grin. "What was your favorite part? I'm Violet, Lily's older sister-"

"And I'm Daisy. Lily _and_ Violet's older _older_ sister," the tallest of three willingly elucidated, flipping her blonde locks flirtatiously with batted lashes. "I'm the star of the show."

It was inevitable for Drake to feel awkward around girls; not knowing what to say, how to handle the situation, even after he had been on plenty of dates. It just wasn't something he seemed to be able to master. It wasn't something natural to him like battling or surfing. Sometimes his past broken relationships made Drake wonder if it was simply him fumbling nervously over his words, being too big of a push-over, or that he tended to go out with a girl who called the shots solely, hardly letting him get a word in... Yet still, while the trainer wished for an everlasting female companion at his side, hopefully in the near future, this was definitely not how he planned on earning one. Or felt anything for those girls for that matter. It's just- how was he supposed to escape their rapture without coming off as snubbing their affections?

Fans or no fans, Drake wasn't about to be rude. Even it meant at the cost of humoring the three ladies a bit.

Drake just blinked, still drawn back from their encroaching approach. "Oh."

"And the director," Daisy bragged, hoping to hold his interest. "I've been in like tons of movies. Most direct to T.V. films, but my agent says I'm going to get a cast call for a big indie drama."

"Congratulations?" he replied, though for some reason the tone he produced sounded more like a question.

Daisy's giddiness, however, didn't pick up on it. "Wow! Thank you like so much!" she shrieked. She may have been a movie star in the making, but meeting someone as renowned as Drake of the Orange Crew was a magical moment she couldn't contain. "Would you like a drink?" she suddenly offered, but with much more control than her sisters had been displaying. "I would be more than happy to buy you a drink-"

"I've had plenty, but thank you," answered the islander, kindly dismissing the offer. With a holding up of his hands, Drake hastily flashed a gaze to his still standing-by brother, only to find him keeping to himself with a definite scowl on his face. Clearly, Jay was in no mood of humoring anyone. "Actually, my-" Finally, Jay's expression shifted, growing into a more panicked look causing Drake to consider his word choice carefully. So he did. "My friend and I have to get going," he concluded the ladies, motioning his head to his brother.

"Your friend?" It wasn't long before Daisy's gaze was the first to swivel, gleaming over her shoulder with brightly lit green eyes. A slimmer but ever still masculine frame concealed the Orange Crew Leader's supposed friend. A smile seeped from Daisy's lips as she eyed him thoughtfully. He may have been frowning, but he still was undeniably cute. "Oh, another tall, dashing, and _handsome_ man. I would have like sworn you two were related," she continued, looking back to Drake.

Drake sweat-dropped. "We get that a lot."

"Well that's only natural," Violet threw in, cocking her own lingering gaze at Jay. "Why don't we walk you guys out? Our trailer's like super close to the exit-"

"_We're_ fine."

Immediately, Drake sensed the sternness in Jay's voice, the annoyance vividly seeping through with his distant, detached eyes. Just glancing at him spoke of someone earnestly disinterested in the proposal. At least to Drake it did.

"No, we insist. It would be our pleasure," Daisy honestly replied. "And you have such a nice voice," she decided to compliment, lightly grazing his arm with fluttering eyelashes. "You_ both_ have like such great voices-"

"Like the superstars in black and white films!" Lily chimed in.

Jay narrowed his eyebrows, drawing back from the caressing of Daisy's fingers that ran across his upper arm. "Well I don't consider myself a Gregory Peck or Cary Grant," he spat not so politely with a sarcastic twist, keeping his arm guarded.

But she didn't catch on. "And you're so funny too! What an amazing package bundled up into one _amazing_ man-"

"_Draaake_. Can we go? _Now_?" he added, much more demanding between grit teeth.

The look of Jay's expression spoke of such desperation and awkwardness Drake didn't recognize him for a moment. He had never witnessed his older brother squirm so uncomfortably before, to_ plead_ for something. Well, he had seen Jay stumble into the lowest depths of his soul, but never about something like this. The situation was unexpected enough to be deemed as uncomfortable for the both of them, nevertheless Drake didn't think the ladies' intentions were of anything impure. They appeared too naive to dream up any kind of bad scenario. It was mindless flirting, simple as that, but Drake knew better than anyone that Jay was faithful to one woman and one woman _alone_. After all, he was hardly stunned by the three pretty girls before them.

Before Drake knew it, four sets of eyes, all different shades, looked to him for a final answer; one reading refusal, while the others read desperation. Drake bit his lip, trailing his focus to somewhere else. If their trailer was close to the exit than it hardly mattered. And the girls did appear harmless. Harmless avid fans nonetheless...

"Well, um..." Drake stopped stumbling and ended the nervous biting of his bottom lip with a civil gesture ahead. "Lead the way," he said.

The outbreak of thrilled giggles contaminated all three young women, having them rush playfully ahead of the men and so excitedly leading the way through the thick overbearing grouping of full dining tables. A scoff was produced loud enough from Jay's mouth for all to hear, but Drake quickly hushed him with an assured look that they'd be out of the festival perimeter soon enough. But then, the brothers' ears caught the sound of something intriguing.

"I wanna to give Drake my number," they heard Lily hiss as the girls huddled together while they strolled away.

"No, I do!" Violet retaliated in a similar harsh whisper. "The other guy's too old for me!"

Jay scoffed again. It wasn't as if he wanted to be with any of them. He most certainly did not. But she didn't need to make it sound like he was fifty or something!

"Then Daisy can have him," the brothers overhead Lily soon suggest.

A silly smile and chortle fell from Daisy's raspberry glossed lips. "I don't mind. I like them older and experienced," she added with another lingering eye.

At that instant, Jay went pale as a ghost. Sharp, mad and frantic eyes looked to an apologetic Drake.

Jay stifled a gulp, but his inner-thoughts carried on anxiously. _Oh, God... I knew we should have left earlier!_

* * *

Even as the minutes ticked by, the waiting for dinner gurgling Ash's stomach, he somehow found himself doing a lot of talking. Or a lot of the talking consisted around him. He went into more depth about his recent travels to his grandparents, what places he liked, what humorous or life-changing moments he had along the way, and of course leaving out any details of dangerous situation he somehow winded up in the middle of. All in all, it was all fairly pleasant even with Emily's nosiness, Delia's quiet presence, and Richard's vivid attempts at jumping in on the conversation. Everything seemed to be civil, quaint like Ash had hoped it to be without the stirring of trouble. There was, he felt, something hanging in the air that he did not fully like; nevertheless, he let the unsettling feeling go by the wayside, knowing it was impossible for every irksome feeling to be erased.

Taking another light sip of her drink, Emily posed another question to her grandson. "How have all your friends been doing?"

"Pretty good," Ash answered. "I try staying in touch with them all, but it's hard to keep up sometimes."

"It's understandable. You can't make time for everyone with the schedule you've got. From what I've learned in life, it is your dearest friends that you seek the most time for."

Ash frowned a little at this. He understood her viewpoint, but with his kind heart he took the liberty of checking on all his friends once in a while- even if it meant he forgot some people in between. But still, it was never his intention to hurt anyone. "I suppose," he started, "but I do try to-"

"Speaking of which, how is your one friend doing? The girl with the red hair. Oh, what was her name...Missy?" Emily at last declared, as if her memory bank was fussy.

Ash gave his grandmother an odd look. "Uh, I think you mean _Misty_," he corrected.

As he lay on the blanket, Pikachu's ear pricked up at the mention of his master's old friend, recognizing its implications to a face.

Emily's expression brightened. "Ah yes, Misty! So have you two kept in correspondence?"

The teenager considered his response, swishing the ice cubes in his soda around. "Um, on and off."

"How's she doing? She was a delight to have here last time, wasn't she Richard?"

Now Emily was looking to her husband, as if he was about to join in on the little scheme she was pulling. At least, Delia sensed the tone Emily was attempting to set.

"Oh yes, very much so," Richard agreed neutrally. "I enjoyed meeting all your friends."

"But _she_ was particularly memorable," his wife persisted, as if hinting he should catch on.

With firmly shut lips, Delia kept her comments at bay. Since when did Emily take the time to get to know Misty? She had only visited with the girl on an occasion, and discovered her findings about her through article clippings and what Ash had said about her. If any of Ash's family members went out of their way to truly know Misty as a person, it was Delia. After all, ever since she became the permanent gym leader of Cerulean, Misty snatched her free opportunities to come visit her old friend's mom. They had, in a way, become like mother and daughter. The visits weren't always consistent, but they were there and Delia never minded being a surrogate mother to the orphaned red-head.

The apparently successful _and_ well-endowed red-head because of her family's reputation.

"I saw in the newspaper that her sisters are doing a regional tour of their shows," Emily began to declare, acting as if this was exceptional.

Ash's eyes widened. "They are?"

"Yes, and it also says Misty has blossomed beautifully as a gym leader over these last few years. She even held a few panels for water type trainers this year. Quite impressive for a girl her age, don't you think?" Emily nudged again with a glisten in her brown eyes.

What was Emily doing? Simply admiring Misty's big accomplishments or trying to play matchmaker without anyone's permission and acceptance? What was next? Her conjuring of what their perfect child would look like? Pitch black locks with stunning sea-green eyes? Delia could feel her nerves spark with slight discomfort, a flame of indignation growing inside of her, like the poking of coals against new wood to start a fire.

However, Ash remained unsuspecting of the heavy-handed hinting. "I guess so," he shrugged. "I'm happy for her, and I knew she could it. She has a lot of potential as a trainer."

"Does she ever?" Emily gushed. Like she knew anything about training. "You should invite her over sometime. It would be nice to catch up with her. I'm sure she has transformed into a beautiful young lady."

"Oh, sure. I can give her a call."

It was as if a hallelujah choir sang above the older woman's head, like she had permission to persist. "Wonderful! And I'm sure your mother would enjoy chatting with Misty."

Like she hadn't done that before.

Delia smiled faintly, impartial to her mother-in-law's scheme. "Oh yes, Misty is always welcome at our house."

And she was. Never did Delia think Misty was lower than them; not "good enough" for Ash to be on an intimate level. Misty was a person of good character, easy to trust, responsible at heart, a real considerate and gentle young lady beneath that tomboy exterior... Come to think of it, Delia supposed she wouldn't mind them dating at all. The thing was Delia wasn't sure if she was ready for any of that. At least not without a clear warning. And she didn't want it to happen unless both Ash and Misty _wanted_ such a relationship. Not for them to be pushed together based on the fact that Misty's family had enough money to make Emily notice them.

"Mom always invites Misty over," Ash innocently added. "Don't ya, Mom?"

He looked to her with such pleasant eyes, but Delia knew all too well what Emily was trying to do. "I do," the woman answered carefully, gazing back to her mother-in-law. "When she's in town. Usually, she's busy helping Prof. Oak and Tracey, though."

"But she _does_ make time to see you."

That Delia could not deny. "I suppose so, yes."

A satisfied grin stretched across Emily's face, her posture strengthening to something twice as high and mighty as it already was. Then, her gaze gleamed to Ash with a tip of her martini glass. "Well then, to me it sounds like you two have already hit it off," she deduced, sipping away.

Ash instantly made a face. "Hit _what_ off?" his tenor voice asked with sheer puzzlement.

As she predicted, Ash made way to Delia's eyes as if somehow she held the answer for him. Ash may have matured greatly, but his ignorance to obvious things was still intact. It took a little more heavy implying for him to catch on, and Delia wasn't about to explain the lunacy falling from Emily's mouth. Where was Jay when she needed him?

"Nothing, honey," Ash's mother answered, her calmness not wavering.

However, Emily had to cut in. "Why, you and Misty!" she exclaimed stealing their attentions. "You two being an _item_."

Those key words made every implication at last clear to Ash. A _stupefied_ Ash.

A sudden heat dusted the teenager's cheeks, with that following a light choke on his soda. Stupidity and embarrassment were the feelings grazing on Ash's self-esteem. How could he have not seen that coming miles away? How could Emily even think something like that? The instinct to reply leaped from his mouth without hesitation. But he chose his words carefully, witnessing somehow by all of this that his grandmother was strangely- _pleased_. "Uh, I think you got the wrong idea, Grandma," Ash said, hoping the heating on his face hadn't become noticeable. "Misty and I are just friends."

"You may be now, but in a few years' time things can change! Ask your _mother_."

In a few years... Emily's words were beginning to taunt him. Make him realize what his own subconscious had been doing. If anything, Ash found himself thinking about Misty more often; wondering what she was up to, how she was doing, when they'd see each other again. He thought it was simply out of curiosity, out of friendly concern, but now...

This time, Delia could feel her cheeks flush as her son swept his gaze to her, cocking his head to the side with an expression that she mostly read as confusion. She knew quite well what Emily was implying, however she didn't find it appropriate nor was she comfortable with the topic of discussing her teenage romance with Jay or the possibility of Ash having his own as it was.

"Well I think it's only natural for a couple to start out as friends," Delia replied evenly without losing herself. "To get to know one another."

"You're right, Delia," her mother-in-law shockingly agreed. In a patronizing tone, nonetheless. And followed up with a contradiction. "But in some instances friends just- what's the word? _Click_. That they know what they want, _who_ they want without question. Without _anyone's_ opinion."

It was another jab Delia wasn't sure she could take, and the gripping on her wine glass was evidence of that. Why was she the main target of tonight? At least, that's what the woman was sensing. Delia behaved fairly decently with Emily over the phone, allowed her to participate in their preparations for the party even though she practically harassed her for such, agreed to let her arrange dinner plans for that evening even though there were already some set in stone, and the mother made sure both she and Ash were wearing "appropriate attire" for the meal.

So why? What were the remarks about? Was it because of the accidental mention of-

"I really don't see the need to discuss this."

Right then and there, the conversation halted. Snatching everyone's undivided attention, Richard sat quite calmly next to Emily, as if the looks of surprise didn't bother him.

And Emily was the first to comment.

"What on earth do you mean, Richard?"

"Well there's no need for Ash to be romantically involved this minute," he began to explain logically, without sounding as if he was opposing his wife. "Most boys his age aren't emotionally mature for that kind of commitment. No offense Ash, but it is a proven fact."

Ash raised his hands, thankful. "No offense taken."

Still utterly astonished by his intervention, Delia gawked at her father-in-law, only to have him, even more amazingly, wink back at her, as if saying he resolved the whole unbearable mess his wife made. Delia smiled a little at this, nodding just soft enough for only Richard to see as a thank you, and then, he went back to wearing his plain expression as if no silent exchange had ever been made. Went back to bearing listening ears, and hear that his mention of logic miraculously turned Emily's behavior around.

"You make a point, Richard. Ash has plenty of time," she agreed, her temper dying down. "We wouldn't want him married with a baby on the way in two years tops anyway."

Maybe it wasn't a full one-eighty.

A shrill, frustrated growl demanded to release between Delia's lips, but was for the best stopped by Ash's awkward laugh. Marriage plus _a baby_? That may have worked for his parents, but that was surely _not_ in the cards for him. Not in the near future at least.

"Well, none of you have to worry, because that is _definitely_ not happening!" Ash declared loudly, as if it needed to be.

This only made Emily smile and eye her smugness to her daughter-in-law again. "I wouldn't expect that from you."

Oh, and the snub remarks just kept coming! With a narrowing of her brows, Delia chugged down a big gulp of her wine, hoping it would somehow make her feel better from the tension floating in the air. But it didn't. Feeling her fingers quiver out of agitation, the woman adjusted her throat and decided to make polite conversation before officially losing her marbles. Something that didn't consist of her past love life or the infantile development of her son's. And she did it fast.

"So... How's Zelda doing?" Delia finally managed to ask. "I haven't heard from her in so long."

"Zelda is doing fine," Richard answered, appreciative of the inquiry and official change in topic. "Actually- fairly recently, we took a trip to go visit her."

"Really?" she perked. "How was your visit?"

"Quite pleasant. A lot has happened to Zelda recently, good things of course..." The trailing of his words brought upon a new expression across Richard's face. Nothing alarming, but nothing jovial either. It was a faint cast of some kind of foreboding. Twisting, Richard looked to his wife promptly. "Would you like to tell them, Emily, or should I?"

Delia and Ash watched Emily attentively, only to see her clench her martini tighter and turn away as if repulsed. "You might as well do it. I can still hardly stomach it."

Concern bloomed. "Did something bad happen?" Delia was the first to ask.

"Oh, no, no, no," Richard hurriedly cleared the air. Emily's mannerism spoke of much more negativity than Richard's. But when did they not?

So, from there, Richard began to explain. "You see, about a month or so ago, Zelda invited Emily and me to meet her at the Indigo Plateau. She was doing a photo shoot for the league's Elite Four, and seeing that traveling to the Indigo Plateau is just as long a drive to Cerulean, we jumped on the chance. But once we arrived, we were- hit with a bit of a surprise," he carried on, finally breaking into a small smile and faint chuckle.

This, however, hardly made Emily's lips curve up. "It was more than just a surprise."

"What was it?" Ash inquired.

"Well, come to find out, Zelda is- engaged."

Delia's mouth dropped open. "She's going to get married? That's wonderful!" she soon exclaimed, utterly delighted. "I'm so happy for her!"

"Yeah, that's great!" Ash added, equally as cheery.

It was no secret that Zelda had difficulty finding true love, going from one guy to the next through her college years. But now, with a blooming career and life all her own, finally someone loved her as much as she tried to love back. Oh, Delia was over the moon for her close friend and sister-in-law! The kind, creative, and spirited person Zelda was only spoke that she deserved such everlasting bliss. She had gone through enough rough patches to at last be graced with some form of eternal elation, and knowing how guarded Zelda had become proved to her family that the man she promised eternity to must have been one catch.

And Delia couldn't wait to find out.

"Well, who is he?" the woman persisted excitedly. "Did you meet him?"

"Oh, we met him all right," Delia's mother-in-law responded in a sarcastic huff.

"Emily isn't all that thrilled about the match," Richard abruptly clarified.

"How can I be?" his wife threw back, rationalizing her opinion. "He's a living, breathing, modern caveman."

"Caveman?" Ash echoed.

"He is not a caveman, Emily," Richard stated sharply.

"You're right; he's a mountain-man! My apologies," Emily countered with another a sarcastic bite.

First Zelda's fiancé was classified as a caveman and now a _mountain-man_? This was just getting way to confusing!

"Wait a minute!" Ash hastily intervened, dying for an explanation. "He lives in the mountains?"

Ash's grandpa opened his mouth, but was already beat by his perturbed wife. "Part time," she bitterly answered. "What was it he said, Richard? About five months out of the year?"

Having suffered enough agony when Zelda told her parents the exciting news and introduced her betrothed to them, Richard was exhausted and rundown by his wife's ridicule of her soon to be son-in-law that he wanted to throw in the towel of telling the story properly.

"Would you like to finish the story, Emily, or shall I?" he suddenly proposed, gazing at her slightly bothered.

Emily simply avoided her husband's stern blue eyes, gazing down and watched the swishing of her drink sway back and forth. She took in a deep breath, and held her head up high.

"She's engaged to Bruno. Of the Elite Five-"

"You mean Bruno of _the_ Elite Four?" Ash corrected, so wide-eyed and startled his grandmother wasn't sure what kind of reaction to expect.

"Yes," she replied, realizing her mistake. Bitterly that was. "Elite _Four_."

All eyes focused back onto Ash, who sat up in a stunned position, waiting anxiously for him to say something. His mouth was agape as he looked to his mom then to Pikachu on the floor who plainly blinked back at him. This- this was so astoundingly awesome and so unexpected, and so unbelievable- Ash could barely process the news. He felt as if he needed to pinch himself or close his eyes to see if reality had changed and that it was all a dream. But it wasn't. It was real. His dear Aunt Zelda was going to marry one of the most_ powerful_ trainers in the world. Strange and unpredictable pairing it was, the engagement was truly happening. And Ash was officially going to be connected to Bruno. By law, of course. But that was enough to satisfy the true passionate Pokémon trainer in him, making him believe he'd get some kind of special treatment somehow. And it would be more than just extra money or presents at Christmas.

Zelda had truly made his day and Ash couldn't wait to brag to the others about it.

Finally regaining thought, Ash's mouth began to sputter. "That's- that's crazy!" he at last proclaimed, still dumbfounded by the fact.

Ash's definition of 'crazy' was a much more positive than his grandmother's.

"That's what I thought," mumbled Emily, hardly moved.

"Apparently, they met last year," Richard started up again nonchalantly as he gained both Delia and Ash's stupefied expressions. "She was photographing up near the Onix Tunnel in Johto and he ended up saving her from a landslide caused by the Onix themselves. He claimed he was also checking out the Onix there."

Evidently, the classic ideal fantasy of a strong brave man rescuing a woman caught in a dangerous predicament did happen out of Delia's romance novels. And now if followed through so magically with the concept of a friendship that morphed into undying love!

"Then it was a good thing he was there!" Delia exclaimed. She was frightened for her poor friend's sake, but still fully ecstatic things turned out the way they did.

"You're telling me," Richard replied with a sort but serious laugh. "Scared us half to death when she told me what happened!"

"I'd say more than half to death," Emily grumbled, sipping her drink.

Her husband sighed. "Yes Emily, you _did_ go into a conniption over the rehashing of events."

"Well, how would you have liked me to react, Richard?" she persisted offensively, adding more unneeded sarcasm. "As if it was no big deal that one of our daughters was almost crushed by a giant boulder-"

"That doesn't surprise me, though." Ash's sudden phrasing caught everyone off guard, making him consider what he had just said. "I mean, about Bruno saving Zelda," the teenager quickly corrected. "He really knows his way around the mountains. And a ton about rock Pokémon."

"You've read up on him?" Richard inquired.

"Yeah, and I actually met him once."

That proclamation did it in for Emily.

"I need another drink," she stated bluntly and soon she went to the drink cart.

But no one took heed to Emily's dramatic statement, which left Delia to smile happily at the discovery while Ash and Richard started chatting away again. They were too engrossed in the news to care.

"Well, they plan to come down and visit a few weeks in September before the wedding, and if you already know Bruno, I'm sure he wouldn't mind catching up with you," Richard furthered to elucidate, only enticing Ash all the more. But then, reality struck. "That is, you still will be here in September, right?" his grandpa posed innocently of the haunting answer that rung through his grandson's ears. "Unless, adventure calls you again!"

Immediately, Ash's smile began to dwindle. Richard made a valid point, and while Ash knew it wasn't his intention to make him feel saddened, he did anyway. Ash was- very much lost on what to do next. The need to know what do to had been eating away at him recently, and now with all the exhilarating changes in life occurring with his family, in town, practically tantalizing him because he was destined to take off again-

Unless adventure called him again... Adventure always called Ash; it was just- he wasn't sure if there was another adventure out there waiting for him. Unless that-

The next big adventure was right there at home.


	4. The Estranged Mr Ketchum

**DISCLAIMER: **Pokémon belongs to Satoshi Tajiri. My oc's belong to me.

* * *

**Sunlight's Return**

**Chapter 4**

_The Estranged Mr. Ketchum _

The crowd was once thought by the Cerulean Gym Leader and her friend to be befittingly enormousness had grown to monstrous proportions in the late hours.

With tired and aching feet, Misty and Brock wandered towards the private trailer her sisters had arranged for them, seeking sanctuary inside its cramped corridors for peace and quiet, away from all the nightlife. She had spent a decent amount of time on a small platform, speaking in front of a good hundred people. Various questions were asked and answered, spanning from water battle techniques Misty used, specialties water types naturally obtained, their strengths and overall weaknesses, as well as proper care regarding nutrients and exercise. And of course, what trials and errors she went through to become a well-rounded gym leader. Not to mention, the whole object of promoting her family's gym. It was a lot of work on Misty's part, demonstrating and showing off her own Pokémon for the last three days with two panels a day. As much as Misty enjoyed and relished the rewarding experience, this was the last day of her and her sisters' tour, meaning the last city they would be visiting.

Which meant going home to Cerulean.

Stretching her arms with a yawn, the teenage girl looked to her friend steadily, finding him still in a lovey-dovey haze. Typical Brock. Misty would have believed that with him entering his twenties and enrolling in Pokémon medical school, that he'd grow out of his desperation to seek a pretty girl by swooning the stranger with poetry he made up right on the spot. However, as she spent the last couple of weeks with him traveling on the road, catching up during both their summer breaks, Misty learned that the saying "old habits die hard" was very much true.

At least in Brock's case.

Brock gazed back at her with a silly grin, stroking his petite goatee as if the facial hair made him more masculine and appealing. "I think she liked me," he announced, hoping Misty wouldn't pop his bubble of confidence.

But she did.

"She had a boyfriend," the red head stated, strutting towards the mini fridge. It was so obvious. The pair looked nothing like each other and the way they gawked and gestured at one another suggested something else. Especially when the guy gave Brock the stink eye, which he somehow overlooked between gushing compliments. Under Misty's observation, they were just a regular couple coming to see her panel and sisters' underwater ballet show.

"I think that guy was her brother," Brock countered.

Rolling her eyes, Misty opened the door and searched for a strawberry soda. All that was left was peach. "I think you're in denial," she replied with sharp wit, settling on the fruity drink.

This, however, only furthered to aggravate Brock's little singe of hope. "Ah c'mon, Misty! Why do ya always gotta think I'm gonna be shot down somehow?"

Because it had happened too many times to count. Cracking the can open, Misty paused, delaying her first sip. Boy, the things she did for him.

"Because you were, because the girl had a _boyfriend_. _That's_ why," she said sternly, finally quenching her thirst.

Brock's eyebrows lowered, twiddling with his thumbs in quiet desperation. "How can you be so certain?"

Misty groaned. "He had his arm wrapped around her waist, Brock! That was a dead giveaway in itself."

"You saw that too?"

At that point, Misty wanted to slap her forehead. Though instead, she sighed heavily and collapsed her body into the cushy hot pink couch with white polka dots perched in the corner of the movable dwelling. "Brock, listen. One day you'll find a girl who won't mind your cliché poems, your overbearing declarations of love, and showering of gifts- and will appreciate your great cooking skills," she added, praying her assurance would ease his desperate seek for a match.

Instead, all Misty got from her friend was a pathetic huff. "Yeah, _one day_."

"You can't force this kind of stuff to happen overnight, Brock," she continued logically. "You should know that by now."

"I know..." Brock's pitiful sigh and melancholy expression, however, didn't last long as a twinkle of something glimmered in his eye. Then, he met her eyes. "You think your sisters liked the gifts I got them?"

Before she could answer or release another irritated groan, a sudden knock at the door surprised the gym leader, drawing her attention to the creaking sound of it opening.

"Knock, knock!" Misty heard Daisy's voice erupt, and the sudden blast of what sounded like shrill giggles soon followed after.

Misty slipped another moan. "Oh, God. It better not be another knock-knock joke, Daisy," she warned loudly behind the door. "The last time you did that, you didn't even know the punch line."

"No, silly!" she snorted, not catching on to her youngest sister's harsh reminder. "It's no knock-knock joke! Guess who we like brought to our little abode!"

Misty could only guess. She held back her tongue, tired, but not too wiped out to get a little testy with her ditzy sisters. If there was one rule they were all supposed to follow, it was no bringing any men back to their home- well, their trailer. And they all agreed to it, begrudgingly of course, but Misty's sisters at the time of agreement seemed to accept the proposal enough for Misty to threaten they'd have to swear on the Bible if they refused to comply. Then again, was it really a surprise they were going back on their promise?

With a boiling temper and deprived of proper sleep, Misty's lungs expanded to produce another groan of displeasure, only for it fall short at the cracking open of the trailer door.

"TA-DA!"

What fell from the gym leader's mouth instead was a piercing gasp, and her soda nearly splattered on the floor before she haphazardly caught it. A deep chill ran up her spine, sea-green eyes refusing to gaze on another thing. Another person. It was so disturbingly alike she had to double-take to make sure her eyes weren't playing tricks on her. Minor gushes of fizzy juice grazed Misty's fingertips as she tried to hold the can steadily again, and while she took notice of her sticky fingers, she looked to Brock. He was just as dumbstruck as she was. Jaw open wide, eyes pulsed with complete amazement, overwhelmed by the people standing before them, not knowing what to say. The _person_ standing before them.

"Wha-wha-what?" Stutters flew from Misty's mouth, raising her index finger to point to the eerie presence of the individual, but her rising of her apparent wobbly hand was cut short by a carefree shriek. "W-who-who is-"

"I know! Can you like believe it, lil' sis?! We actually met Drake!" Daisy announced, gesturing towards him with plainly obvious gleefulness. "And he like agreed to hang out with us!"

Misty's right eye twitched, though her mind wanted to roll her eyes so badly.

It wasn't the Orange Crew Leader's appearance that threw Misty and Brock for a loop. It was the man standing next to him, looking equally as awkward and ten times more peeved. That face... Misty's heart skipped a beat as her eyes skimmed the stranger from head to toe. He looked too eerily familiar, in the most chilling and puzzling light. The midnight locks, the birthmarks bared on both cheeks, but those intense icy eyes... With an agape mouth Misty in particular could not shift her eyes nor find the words to respond to her sister and their captives. How could Daisy, Lily, or Violet_ not_ have noticed or commented? Then again, it was them. And picking up a stranger's uncanny appearance to that of one of Misty's friends was something they wouldn't bother to observe.

Innocently or not, Misty's sisters made things very uncomfortable for her and Brock.

Drake suddenly stepped back from their closeness, quickly clarifying Daisy's statement. "I never agreed to any such thing-"

"Sure ya did!"

"So do you guys like want anything to drink before you go?"

Without even realizing it, Drake was backed into a cabinet, cornered by both Lily and Daisy with their big pleading eyes. It was bad enough they pushed him and his older brother into "coming in for a minute" to meet their supposed sister and her friend. Jay, of course, refused it instantly, only earning laughs and words of encouragement to "loosen up". And now, Jay looked as if he was about ready to put Drake in a choke-hold for all of this. Entertaining the Cerulean Sisters' silly wishes as if it was plausible they were going to get numbers in their cellphones by the end of the night was definitely _not_ on Jay's agenda. Getting the heck out of there was.

With furrowed brows, the master hissed, "I thought we've already been through this? _No thank you_."

He simply got a meaningless shrug from Violet, sneering at him a little before turning to Drake. "Fine. But what about you, Drake? Would _you _like something?"

"N-no, thank you," he stuttered, feeling his lower back being pressed firmly into the wooden structure. He felt claustrophobic with all three girls surrounding him and when he lingered his helpless eyes to Jay all he got was a stern look of: _say it_. It was like a timid child dealing with a bully and his father simply pushing him out there, telling him to "be a man."

Swallowing, Drake tried to capture a similar gaze as his brother's. "I'm really all right," he stated without hesitation. "And it's been nice meeting you girls, but we really should get going."

"What's the hurry?" Violet posed, unmoved. "The big fireworks display will be like ending soon. Maybe we can go check it out?"

"Like I said, we _have_ to leave-"

"Say sis, ya mind staying behind?" The focus was now back onto Daisy, who absentmindedly asked her youngest sister for the favor, as if their plan was in motion. "The Pokémon from the show are like super tired and need to be fed."

A scoff flew from Misty's mouth. "I can't believe you three! How oblivious you all are! Do you not _see_ _who_ is _standing_ before you?!"

"Yeah,_ we_ know," Lily retorted, slightly nettled by Misty's response. "It's like Drake."

Fingernails dug into Misty's scalp, pulling violently on her tresses with the most profound growl she had produced all day. "Arrgh! That's not what I meant!"

"C'mon Misty, we all know you have a crush on him," Violet threw in, referring to the islander. "The posters on your wall say it all-"

"Will you please stop talking before I _permanently_ make your mouth glued shut?!"

Not only were they completely clueless to the obvious, but they also had the nerve to outwardly reveal her subtle crush and admiration for Drake, too? And right _in front_ of him? Misty's blood pressure hadn't risen to such a heightened level in so long, that she felt three times as flustered as she normally would. With maturity, her hotheaded temper had simmered quite evenly, but now- it appeared Misty still had enough impatience to become testy again more so than simply exasperated.

Daisy waved her hand casually with a tiny "no big deal" grin. "Chill Misty. No need to get like jealous."

"I'm not jealous! What _I am_ is-"

A sudden rumble erupted below everyone's feet, ending the bantering.

As if a vibration of gigantic footsteps was shaking the ground, the entire trailer rattled. Items falling off shelves, furniture and anything lying on the floor rumbling with faint jumps off the floor. Then came the unexpected. Something powerful rocked the trailer violently enough to knock everyone off their feet, sliding them across the perimeter of the movable home as well as the luxury items within it. Misty and Brock's tumbling downward led them to ramming into the sofa, soft groans of pain falling from their mouths with eyes tightly shut. Swiftly, Jay and Drake reached for the corners of the counters, gripping tightly while resisting the force of their feet gliding into a clumsy stumble. Which was exactly what happened to Misty's sister. Violet, frightened and panicked, reached for the fridge door, only to have the contents roll out, some easily breakable items spewing across the floor. The slippery mess of various juices led to Daisy tripping, who then clung to the back of Drake's vest for support, and Lily's not so thought-out attempt at holding on to a handle of a drawer forced it to tug out of its place and slam into the back of Jay.

But as Jay caught himself on the floor with one hand, he noticed the roaring had stopped. However, his hand still felt the tremor tickling his nerves.

"What in the world was that?!" exclaimed Brock, rushing to his feet to look outside the back trailer window.

Scrambling upwards, Misty followed after her friend, plastering her hands and nose against the glass as he did. And what was going outside only furthered to confuse and rattle her anxiety. "Has everyone lost their minds?"

If they thought the juddering the trailer suffered was bad, then they couldn't even imagine how topsy-turvy it would be like to go outside. From every direction flocks of shrieking people shoved and pushed each other, as if in mad hysteria trying to find a way out of the festival limits. But why? And why was there a violet rumble? Misty quickly assumed the two were connected.

"What are they all running away from?" Brock muttered, utterly dumbfounded.

Now looking outside another window themselves, Misty's sisters huddled together out of fear, Daisy in particular biting her nails as she let out a wail. "Oh my gosh! This is like in that crime drama I just filmed! This serial killer goes like on this crazy rampage and decides to punish all the people who like hurt him by attacking this fundraiser that's open to the public!"

Lily gulped, bringing a shaky curled hand close to her chest. "W-what did he do?"

Daisy sucked in a deep, savage breath between her cries. "He sets off a bomb and my character dies!"

Immediately, the three girls began their bawling session, though they lacked any sympathetic eyes. Jay rolled his eyes with a release of a growl of frustration. _Dammit!_ He was afraid this would happen! He was worried they wouldn't leave in time. And now, he felt responsible for all of it. For all those innocent people and Pokémon possibly getting hurt...

"We're too young and beautiful to die!" Violet sniffled, her hands clasped dramatically over her cheeks. "Especially here of all places!"

Carrying on her dramatic response as if it was her last role in a low-budget film, Daisy clung to Jay's arm loosely, beaming up at him with watery green eyes. "If we die, at least I knew I had a faithful man like you by my side."

She had to be kidding.

A wrinkle of his nose and a sneer added to Jay's severe dislike of her soft touch as he pulled away. "I'm _married_!" he snarled loudly, hoping she'd get the picture _finally. _

A look of disappointment crossed the blonde woman's face. "Aww! Bummer!"

"Like totally!" Lily added, scoffing.

"No, _not_ bummer," the master corrected. His attention of the distraught girls didn't last long as he looked back to his brother. Then, he saw the lights in the trailer beginning to flicker again. "Drake, we have got to get out of here. And fast!"

In one nod of agreement, the two men hurriedly made way to the trailer door, not looking back for a second.

This jumped Misty into action, her feet shaking as she felt the structure of the trailer rattle again. "Hold on! Wait!" she cried desperately.

As they darted out, the brothers were faced with an obstacle worse than it looked from inside the glass windows. The immense herd of screaming citizens seemed to have gotten bigger. The running through the festival area hadn't ceased, neither had the bumping into one another, falling down and rising again to rejoin the mayhem, but acting as if they never knew where they were exactly going. Panicked eyes scanned across the perimeter, forcing Jay to kick his adrenaline up.

"They're here," he announced hoarsely with wide eyes.

Instantaneously, Drake wore the same expression as his brother did, sending them both into a frenzy of running. The pair ran across the violent scene of mania; the calling of the Cerulean sisters and the other two was muffled to their ears while they struggled through. This pushing against the dense crowd to the exit, however, ended abruptly as someone rammed into Drake from behind, sending him straight on top of Jay. Landing to the ground with a loud and agonizing thud, Jay was conscious enough to pull himself out from under Drake's weight, then helping his dizzy brother up from the sudden collapse.

"Jay, this place is a madhouse," Drake declared, frantic eyes watching the growing insanity as he tried to balance. "How are we ever going to reach the exit?"

At this point, with a throbbing head and the giant masses of people every which way, it was nearly impossible to locate the exit. Jay was positive he parked the car to the north, but with everything ensuing so destructively, could he be certain? And could he and Drake really just up and take off?

Eventually, Jay's wandering eyes settled back on his brother. "We can't."

Drake lowered his brows. "What?"

"They won't stop till they find me. So _we_ have to find them."

Not even giving Drake a chance to process, Jay took off again, heading to what his brother presumed to be the center of where the chaos erupted. To where Team Rocket was.

"Jay?" the islander hollered over the cries and yelling, watching him slip further and further away. "Jay!" Seeing it was hopeless, Drake went after him and fought through the multitude of petrified individuals, only pushing harder to not lose sight of his brother.

As was Misty and Brock. With their speed and resolve, the pair plowed their own path, only pausing for a moment in a clearer spot to scout the area. Heads swiveled about endlessly, going back and until two heads covered in black hair moving at steadfast speeds stole the redhead's attention.

"Over there!" Misty proclaimed, pointing ahead as well as nudging her friend. "They went this way!"

* * *

Diving further and deeper into the overgrown pack of distress led the brothers closer to the culprit of the ensuing pandemonium. And as they did so, the crowd thankfully thinned, enough for Jay and Drake's mind to semi-focus and for them to prepare themselves for what they were about to discover. A towering machine stood near the auditorium where the water show premiered; a mechanical terror in the shape of a Raticate loomed over the frantic citizens, its bright red eyes scanning the surrounding area repeatedly. There was a giant red R plastered on the front, but Jay didn't need that to confirm his suspicions. The clear glass that shaped the mouth gave a fuzzy outline of what appeared to be two individuals inside, shades of green and gold and black mingling together.

Those colors revealed the miscreants behind all of this.

Jay froze, pushing his brother back with a firm but gentle hand, having them lurk behind one of the stationed buildings. Their eyes just barely peaked around the corner to remain camouflaged as they observed the machine.

"Giovanni is really taking things to the next level," muttered Jay, eyes carefully inspecting the scene.

Drake cocked an eyebrow. "You recognize those two?"

"No." The master shook his head. Brimble always came with at least three recruits by his side. "Never seen them before. They must be new recruits."

"_Better_ recruits?"

Recognizing deep concern in his little brother's voice, Jay chose his words thoughtfully. "Possibly. But they can't be by that much... I'm going in."

Drake snatched him by the arm. "Going in?" he repeated, hanging onto Jay tightly. "Where?"

"Just stay close behind, but don't make yourself too noticeable." He removed his little brother's clinging hand, baring a fatherly sternness in his baritone cords. Prof. Oak's words of warning haunted him in the back of his mind. "Not unless I am absolutely in danger. I _mean_ it. I don't need them finding out about you."

"But Jay-"

"Please. Just trust me. I've been through worse."

The direct order left Drake to submit; however, that didn't stop him from worrying. Quivering blue eyes watched Jay disappear into the crowd again, his stomach churning with the unthinkable. It wasn't that Drake was afraid of Team Rocket, and it wasn't that he doubted Jay, either. What he didn't like was hanging back, letting Jay stand on his own when there was no need to. When he could help fight them off easily with his well-equipped team. Except the fact that Jay was simply ensuring his brother's safety against Giovanni's threats...

The crimson eyes were so boldly bright that no one dared to stare into them. Though they could see all. They could see through the buildings themselves, zoom in on screeching individuals to get a closer look, to identify its target. But the device was having bad luck and time was running out.

"You see him?"

Butch didn't lift his gaze as he worked away on the controls, zooming in and out. "Not yet."

Cassidy gazed forward again, scouring with furrowed brows. "Keep looking. He'll be coming. Playing 'hero' to all these foolish civilians," she laughed dryly.

That Butch was beginning to doubt. The size of the crowd was enormously massive, and that neither he nor Cassidy would instantly find their quarry like a child in the midst of a grand Easter egg hunt. To Butch, it felt like a waste of time. Maybe because he assumed their prey would be a coward; running away verses actually attempting to fight the damn thing. That and the police would be showing up sooner or later. And next to children's birthday parties, restaurants that sang happy birthday to you, and fun-houses, Butch_ hated_ prison.

But this contraption was the new state of the art in Team Rocket's mechanical field. And it had already tested as successful by three other groups...

Sighing, Butch lazily swiveled the joystick around. "I don't know, Cassidy. This really doesn't seem to be wor- Waaah!"

A sudden shift in their overgrown rat's footing tipped them just slightly to the right, enough to rattle them around and catch them by surprise. Cassidy fell directly out of her seat, crashing into Butch's, which sent him flying out of his. He bonked his head against a wall, wincing at the sharp pain that ran up his spine.

With a fuzzy pair of eyes and spiked nerves, Butch shrieked, "What the hell was that?"

Tripping over her own feet, Cassidy growled in frustration, clutching the back of her chair with a tight grip. "Arrggh!" She knew exactly _who_ did this as she gazed out the glass. "Why that son of a-"

"Looking for me?"

Their high definition audio picked up the sound of a voice; a voice they had heard before through recordings thanks to Brimble. A face Cassidy had been dying to see in the flesh, and bring back home to earn the biggest reward her boss had ever offered in the organization's history. The thought of that motivated her to a degree of determination that she swore she'd do anything to gain it. That she and Butch would gain it. Well, a sixty-forty split, of course.

A sharp glance from Cassidy didn't need to be made, for Butch was already on the task he had been waiting to do, finally magnifying the scope of the rat's eyes to have a clear picture of the target. There he was. Jayce Ketchum. Smirking like Brimble always said he did. Next to his side in a fighting stance, the trainer had his prized muscular Swampert out with him, making Cassidy assume that big mud-fish brute was the culprit behind her forming headache and disheveled gold locks.

But instead of allowing her temper to flare, Cassidy pressed a finger delicately over the intercom and smirked right back. "You know you're practically asking to be captured?"

"Am I?" the master retorted wittily, folding his arms across his chest with a hip out. "'Cause it looks like you two are practically asking to be carted away in handcuffs. Why don't you just high-tail and run while you still have a chance?"

"Humph! You really are as cocky as Brimble said," the woman spat back, her cocky grin never shrinking. But her brows narrowed all the more. "I would suggest coming quietly, unless you want more innocent civilians harmed."

Jay simply glanced around, unmoved, then looked back up. "I think you've already disrupted enough for me not to come quietly," he countered.

Cassidy huffed and shrugged. "Too bad. Guess you'll have to learn the hard way. Let us properly introduce ourselves, then!"

In a flash, Jay saw them disappear from their station through the clear glass, and soon a rumbling occurred on top of the Raticate's head. He raised an eyebrow in suspicion, seeing the two grunts emerge from their control room as two flaps opened the head. They rose on a metal support board standing back to back with arms crossed over their chest and overly confident smiles. Heads held high and a lack of intimidation in the air as the metal board clicked into place, securing their spot. Jay wondered what exactly they were up to. If they were going to come down and pose a double battle or had another device just waiting to snatch him up before his reflexes could jump into action-

"Here's our mission so you better listen!"

The rhyming, the sudden pointing of their index fingers directly at the master stumped Jay, even Swampert, who cocked his head to the side in confusion. What in the world were they up to?

Cassidy sucked in a deep breath. "To infect the world with devastation!"

"To blight all people in every nation!" Butch followed just as flamboyantly.

"To denounce the goodness of truth and love!"

"To extend our wrath to the stars above!"

"Cassidy!" she announced, her hand flicking her long gold locks with her shimmering earrings, as if she was the goddess of spite.

"And Butch, of course!" her partner added, thrusting a strong fit in the air.

"We're Team Rocket, circling Earth all day and night!"

"Surrender to us now or you will surely lose the fight!"

There was a long pause.

Then, Jay just smirked. "Seriously?" he said incredulously. "A _motto_? You honestly believe rehearsing that ridiculous slogan for your corrupt organization that you probably wrote in less than ten minutes intimidates me one bit?"

Cassidy and Butch were insulted. It actually took them twenty minutes to jot down their personal motto, and they put a lot of consideration into as well. Wanting to outdo their fellow competition who insisted their motto was somehow better... Butch could hear the grinding of his partner's pearly white teeth, outraged someone the likes of Jayce Ketchum would insult her so boldly. He was foolish to her. Absolutely foolish! He had no idea he was messing with! No idea on how many attacks she had tactfully pulled off and with success! Unlike many of her fellow grunts! She was no pathetic agent like Brimble, and she wasn't going to allow her and Butch's tactics be ridiculed without payback.

But Cassidy wasn't going to let Jay heighten her temper either.

"We'll show you!" the woman hollered, trying to reclaim her composure. "Hutch, after him!"

Butch narrowed his eyebrows as the metal board began to lower. "It's Butch!"

"Whatever!" his partner yelled back from inside the machine, as they landed back down in their seats. "Just capture him already!"

Spontaneously pressing various keys, Butch started to work away, unlocking various tricks that were embedded in their secret weapon. His impressive typing led to an impressive display of attacks spewing from the Raticate's paws, launching directly at Jay. The master readied himself as Swampert leaped in front of him, not even giving the giant mud-fish an order to do so.

What appeared to be nets sprang open as they hurled closer to the trainer and his Pokémon, followed by small rockets shattering into the ground to block them from escaping the surrounding area.

"Swampert, use protect!"

With the sharp command, the Pokémon enforced an invisible barrier, protecting him and his master from the net, determined to capture them in one vicious hold. As it dove directly at them, it instead clung around the protection shield, eventually obliterating into small fragments that scattered the air.

Another growl flew from Cassidy's lungs as she witnessed their first strike of defeat. "Fire more! More!"

Her demands furthered to irritate Butch, considering he was working at the speed of light. "I'm working on it!" he spat.

Still observing from the sidelines, Drake's worry grew more intensively, his eyes darting to the rat's paws releasing more weapons and nets, and then back to his older brother, who made him get a hitch in his throat every time he just barely moved unscathed. Something had to be done. Jay couldn't keep this up. He didn't even have a second to reach for his pokeball and call upon another teammate, and Swampert could only use protect so many times before running tired of the move.

Never had he seen a machine built by Team Rocket to be so undeniably fast. So fast, similar to his-

An idea burst through Drake's mind, he nearly released a smile of his pure genius. That's probably what Team Rocket based their mechanical weapon's speed on! Reaching to his neck, Drake was about ready to unhook the shrunken 'ball on the thin chain, when suddenly two shadows cast near him. Two familiar shadows. He hastily looked up to find the redheaded girl and her dark complected friend from the trailer, panting heavily till their eyes lingered to the horrific display before them.

They ended their catching of breath for a moment.

"Oh my gosh!" Misty cried, eyes not shifting from the ongoing scuffle.

"It's Team Rocket!" Brock proclaimed, seeing he recognized the figures and the obvious red R. "It's Cassidy and Whatshisname!"

"But what are they doing here?!" the gym leader furthered to remain puzzled, completely shell-shocked by the villain's sudden intrusion.

It would perfectly explain why everyone was engulfed in a state of alarm, however, that did not explain why Team Rocket was present. Perhaps to simply steal Pokémon at one of the biggest functions for trainers held across Kanto? With suspicion, Misty's eyes flashed to a stunned Drake, who had been so adamant about leaving along with his friend. Then, her eyes darkened. Or was it something more entirely?

Staying strong with a mask of conviction that his plan would be put into motion, Drake's gaze trailed over to the two young adults. "You're both Pokémon trainers, aren't you?"

Brock gulped out of slight nervousness as he turned to him. "Y-yes sir, we are."

A soft smile spread across Drake's lips as he finally clipped the 'ball off his necklace, spinning it on his index finger. "Think you could help me with a little attack strategy then?" he asked outwardly, catching it in its full size in one swoop.

What the Orange Crew Leader had in mind was definitely not what Misty or Brock had expected. Though they should have known better.

Watching the scene unfold from below, repeating the same actions over and over, Drake had the two saddled to his trusty Dragonite, who soon was soaring headfirst as high as he could go with Brock and Misty clinging on for dear life. They agreed full-heartedly to the islander's scheme, seeing they were willing to do anything to end Team Rocket's evil doings, but this surely was something they underestimated.

"Whoa!" Brock exclaimed, digging his fingers into Misty's tank-top near her waist. He couldn't help but see how far off the ground they were. His knees began to quake. "I think Dragonite is going too fast!" he stated, looking to the back of his friend's head.

Misty cringed herself, shaking off the nerves with a brave face. The only thing that was helping her was _not_ to look down. "Just hold on, Brock. Drake knows what he's doing," she assured, clasping her hands tightly around the dragon's scaly neck.

"I hope he does!"

The battle on Earth wasn't going anywhere, and it was evident that even though everything was small, Drake's friend was tiring out and so was his immense blue companion. Shots kept being fired, the stranger tiredly but with perseverance kept running from side to side, and the Swampert, running low on energy, fired a mud-slap that barley nicked the machine.

Taking a deep breath full of rushing anxiety, Misty gently but firmly tapped Dragonite in the side with her foot, having the Pokémon stop midair, flapping its wings as they hung. From there, the redhead looked down and the distance terrified her. But she put on the face a strong gym leader would wear and took charge.

"Okay, we've got a clear view of the head of the machine," she declared, glancing over her shoulder to Brock. "Ready?"

Brock swallowed. "Ready as I'll ever be." With a tremor, he removed his right hand from Misty's waist, fumbling to locate the correct pokeball on his belt. Then he did a similar thing of calming himself like Misty. Putting on his version of what a warrior would wear. "Let's do this!" Tossing the 'ball upward, a bright light shined into the sky, unleashing a toxic frog. As Brock caught the spinning 'ball back in his hand, the what was now revealed to be Croagunk landed in front of Misty, sitting with relaxed and blank expression on the midsection of Dragonite's neck. Brock wished he could be just as relaxed as his amphibious companion.

Readying herself to get the plan in full swing, Misty gently threw her pokeball up in the air, revealing a bubbly Azurill who cooed as she landed back into Misty's arms, snuggling close to her chest. Now, time for phase two. Receiving confirmation from Misty with an affirmative nod, Brock pointed forward, preparing his part in the epic attack.

"Croagunk, use poison sting!" he ordered.

"Azurill, use your water gun!" Misty also commanded as the round blue mouse perched itself on Croagunk's head.

Then, as Dragonite's mouth opened wide, a bright shimmer coming from inside, the final request played out at last.

"And aim straight into Dragonite's hyper beam!" the trainers said in unison, anxious to see the result.

Without hesitation the Pokemon did exactly as they were told, flashes of bright purple shots being blast downward with a powerful current of water following afterward. It was when Dragonite's growing hyper beam inched its way out of his mouth that the attacks all mingled together. The sudden flash of lights blinded Misty and Brock momentarily, the exhilaration of the hyper beam and the added combo of water and poison attacks ascending downward in one dangerous bundle.

Hearing the familiar sound, Jay's exhausted eyes drifted above, seeing the hurling shot of mixed colors coming his way. He ducked instantly, Swampert shielding his body with one final move of protect, only to discover the beam had thankfully missed them completely. Instead, they were secured by the scraps of giant metal flying through the atmosphere and landing with great thuds to the ground. As Jay gawked up, the barrier flickering, he saw the head of the Raticate had been destroyed in one blow and that two screaming fried figures were now drifting so high in the air they had become nothing but specks.

Then, the rest of the device took its final step, crashing into hundreds of pieces with an energized wind whipping across the land. The strong gusts broke the invisible barricade entirely, but at that time only particles of the machine fell from the sky. Shaking his large head with a faint haze of dust clouding its view, Swampert's eyes immediately followed the floating swift gold Pokémon, entranced by its speed as it glided back down to earth.

And so did Jay.

Drake may not have revealed himself to Team Rocket, but he still found a way to have his brother's back. And Jay was immensely thankful for that.

* * *

Next to any roast Delia had made, Emily's chef's was the runner-up of exquisitely and perfectly cooked in Ash's eyes.

The talk across the table was much lighter and less suffocating with jeers and snide remarks. Delia hardly touched her wine this time around, and found herself relaxing a touch more than earlier. Ash, too, enjoyed the atmosphere better, but even as strawberry shortcake strolled its way over for dessert, a feeling Ash had been bottling up for the last couples of days was beginning to seep out. However, it didn't fully release its presence till he and his mother said their goodbyes and waltzed over to the run-down but still kicking pick-up truck.

Walking beside her with his hands shoved in his jean pockets, Ash looked to Pikachu for encouragement to speak, but all he found was a tired and bored out of his mind rodent from the feast. So, the teenager proceeded anyway, fearful of the answer or not. "Hey, Mom?" he soon called, a slight shake in his voice. "You don't think I've- been wasting my time, have you?"

Turning to look at her son, Delia stopped in her tracks. Wasting his time! Ash had done more and seen more in a lifetime than most could accomplish! "Of course not," she replied honestly, worrying. "Ash, you're doing what your heart tells you. You're following your dream. And as long as growing as a trainer gets you somewhere and makes you happy, then honey," she sighed with a gentle, bittersweet grin, "that's all I want."

He nodded back understandingly, soaking in her words before replying. Then, he glanced at his loyal companion, still seeing the mouse slumped tiredly and snoring ever so faintly. Ash smiled wryly at this. Even Pikachu had the answer without saying a word. "I think... I think I'm going to stay longer than a couple of weeks," Ash finally proclaimed.

Delia's eyes shimmered with hope. "Really?"

"Yeah," Ash assured with certainty. "Prof. Oak hasn't really mentioned anywhere for me to travel to yet and... I think I've missed out on enough," he admitted, sad and yet eager all the same. "You've got a lot going for you, Dani does, Tracey and Prof. Oak do, Zelda, even Gary..." Realizing such- it felt as if everyone was soaring past him, knowing what they wanted, making something of themselves, finding their callings, and he was still stuck in the same routine. Traveling for badges and getting mixed up in crazy scenarios, but learning meaningful lessons along the way. And Ash never regretted any of his journeys for a single minute. It was just that-

It was time for an equal balance. To give back to his family and community and to still pursue his dreams on the side. To not feel disconnected.

To not feel homesick.

"Would that be okay, Mom?" he asked, double-checking for approval. "If I stayed and I dunno, helped you guys?"

Delia's heart wanted to sing. She knew better, though, than to get too excited. Smothering Ash might drive him away to the road again, and that was definitely not what the jovial mother wished. It was only right and healthy for Ash to take a break, but not lose sight of his goals either. Besides, having her precious angel back around the house, even though he was morphing into a young respectable man... Delia thought she'd never get to experience the old times again.

Delia's smile grew. "You don't ever have to ask, Ash. You're always more than welcome to stay. This _is_ your home."

He returned her words with another nod, having the pair proceed to the truck again. But then, Ash crept out of his shell again.

"If it's okay with you, I think I'll call Brock and Misty in the morning," he stated, he too now growing his own smile. "See if they want to come by sometime. Maybe they could even come for the party at the inn or something."

All the plans, all the warm inviting suggestions, Delia was more than welcoming to all of it. Finally, a summer that they all could relish together.

The woman's smile finally bloomed with hazy eyes, filled with content tears. "That's perfectly all right with me."

* * *

Once Team Rocket was out of sight, the entire perimeter of the festival was blocked off with tape and police cars and ambulances stationed around it. Many people were being interviewed, while some were being treated for any injuries, both for themselves and for their Pokémon. So many noises it could make one's head spin. Misty and Brock, however, just wrapped up their statements with an officer, standing by waiting anxiously for the entire place to clear. They had, like other trainers, been thanked by the police department for their brave services, but knowing all was well and no Pokémon were unlawfully taken did not ease either trainer.

Especially Misty.

From a short distant, she watched the setting sun's rays cast brightly around the two people who stumped her most for being there. The Orange Crew Leader Drake and his mysterious but oddly recognizable friend having their own private interaction with the head of the department, Fuchsia's Officer Jenny herself. The situation was so serious and so irking, not even Brock bothered to run up to her and declare his affections. Neither of them knew what to think, hardly processing the sudden attack, the appearance of this familiar face, yet not familiar at all...

Glancing over her shoulder, Misty caught another glimpse of the man from the corner of her eye and shivered from the pulse of shock. There was no other logical explanation. Crazy as it sounded, Misty's hunch was telling her something. And usually, it was right. Her suspicions stayed wildly noticeable, wide eyes and an agape mouth every time she stared at him. The repercussions of Team Rocket's surprise attack had done their damage in startling the gym leader, between the partial destruction of her sister's trailer to the madness ensuing outside, people running and screaming for their lives. But this...

Twirling back, Misty met Brock's gaze and released the startling evidence plaguing her mind with a cry of insistence. "Just look at him, Brock, and tell me you don't see what I see!" she exclaimed, slightly hysterical. Her feet creaked faintly underneath her weight, the explosive battle still wearing on her fried mind and body.

Brock's eyes narrowed, peaking only for a second and then back at her. "Of course I see it," he replied in a hushed but serious voice. "But Misty- we can't just jump to conclusions. For one if he is _him_, why is he with Drake? Why is he in Fuchsia? And what does Team Rocket have to do with any of this?"

As usual, Brock made logical points no one would dare overlook, and that Misty herself had been itching to uncover. Neither one of them knew much information on Ash's father. He was a traveling trainer, Delia had explained briefly, but left it at that. It almost felt prohibited to mention him or inquire anything about his whereabouts, personality, relationships with various family members. A reasonable explanation was never given for his absence. Not that they ever needed to really know, nor was it their business. But now, Misty wished she had pressed more. After all, the most she innocently got out of Ash was a name. A name Delia never bothered uttering. That, and his age. Well, at least she squeezed out of her friend that his parents were young when they got married, right out of high school to be exact. And this man didn't look a day over thirty-five to Misty's estimate.

But that didn't answer all the haunting questions Brock listed. There wasn't enough proof besides their personal deductions.

"I don't know," she at last sighed. "But I need to find out."

With determination flickering in her eyes, Misty strayed away without much of a struggle, ignoring Brock's calls like a possessed Tauros on the color red. But that didn't stop him from reaching out.

"Misty! Misty hold on!" The young man's hurried steps sped fast enough to gently but securely take hold of her arm, drawing her back while she shot him a severely displeased look. "You can't go over there," ordered Brock firmly, playing big brother.

Misty's eyes sharpened. "Why? It's not against the law," she snapped.

"Yeah, but- what if we're _not_ supposed to know?" he hinted, a foreboding of danger riding heavily in his concerned voice. "What if this is more serious than we thought? It did look like Team Rocket was specifically after him. You can't deny that."

Again, Misty had difficulty dismissing her friend's observations. Cassidy and Butch had acted so violently, so adamant about achieving their goal, that for a second Misty wondered if their usual determination had worsened for a reason. Because of a target, to cause that much collateral damage, to draw that much attention for the authorities to drop by.

A little glimmer of sense in all the chaos shimmered.

It would explain why Ash's dad was never brought up; why Delia always seemed depressed or awkward at first glimpse of her estranged husband's mention. However, that observation only led to more questions. Did Ash and Delia know he was somehow involved with Team Rocket, and apparently the leader of the Orange Crew too? Misty didn't believe so. If anything, it appeared as if Ash and Delia were shot in the dark. Maybe they never explained Ash's father's lack of appearance was because they _didn't_ know why. The happenings were all too strange for the gym leader to dismiss as her simply reading into wild hypothesis. They seemed, plausible. Plus from what she could gather, even though no one besides Ash was ever eager to share anything about him- Ash's dad couldn't have been a villain. Not if he was traveling with Drake or if Team Rocket was hunting him down. Something, whether it was a marital spat that drove Ash's parents apart or secrets his dad was keeping, Misty couldn't just walk away without trying. Not when out of the blue, he suddenly appeared to her.

Still, she didn't know if she could trust him. _Yet_.

Misty paused. It was likely she was carefully deciding how to answer, an answer that would yield to her going forth with her headstrong plans. And she did, while thoughtfully lifting her attention to Brock again with twice as much resolve. "And if that's the case, then Ash and his family could be in danger. We need to know, Brock."

Pulling away, Brock freed his friend without further argument but crept behind her, keeping his distance while still listening in on her attempt at uncovering the truth.

While nervously approaching the man, Officer Jenny was in the midst of wrapping up her questions, giving each of the men thankful smiles for their willing cooperation.

"Thank you gentlemen," she said, finishing up her detailed notes. "I don't think there will be any further questions."

The men nodded back to her, watching the officer stroll away as she attempted to gather some of her detectives around. Then, they looked as if they were going to make a break for it. With weary eyes the pair began to hastily stroll away, kicking Misty's mind and body into gear.

"Excuse me!" she beckoned politely, though they did not freeze at her call. "Mister?" They were either running away from her or did not know who she was referring to. But Misty carried on anyway. "Wait!" Her jogging quickened into a short run, panting heavily enough for the men to hear and turn to her. Casually, they beamed at the teenage girl, watching her regain her breath as she tried to sound sane in her questioning. "I know this might sound strange but- do you have a son?" she asked, gesturing to the unknown man in particular.

The man's eyes sharpened, his voice bathed in heightened suspicion. What was this girl up to? And who was she? "_Why_?" He recognized the look she gave him back in the trailer. Before all Hell broke loose.

But his skepticism of her question concealed nothing. Instantly, Misty read his response. "You do, don't you?" she said, her sea-green eyes softening into something slightly sympathetic, and yet bearing a stroke of uncertainty.

And with that gaze, Misty plunged herself into a deeper side of the man. Scratching at something so raw his eyes turned almost as cold as ice. As did his voice. He shifted uncomfortably, shoving his hands into his jean pockets. "Listen, kid, I don't know what you're getting at but it ends here."

Immediately the man whipped around without further question, having Drake trail behind him, anxious eyes looming over at Misty. She could sense he was a guarded creature, too, yet hardly touched by her passion, her stubbornness, to know the truth.

"Please-" she slipped with a pathetic plea, only to recover her strength in her voice. Misty didn't want to go this far, but what choice did she have. She sucked in a deep breath and demanded, "Mr. Ketchum, please wait!"

With a racing heart pounding profoundly inside of her, Misty watched the man spin around slowly, ignoring the worried eye Drake gave him. Brock, too, anxiously observed from the side, biting on his tongue, concerned of what was to come next.

His brows narrowed deeper, but his eyes lightened. "How do you know my name?" the man demanded firmly, but quietly.

Misty breathed in another deep breath. "Your son."

The man's eyes intensified, the color of ice melting into a deeper, richer shade of icy blue. "You know Ash?"

The ice was beginning to crack.

Misty's lips curved up softly. Her hunch was right all along. "A little," she said gently. "He's my friend."

* * *

**Author's Note:**

Ooo, such a cliffhanger we've been left with! I can't tell you all how excited I was to get this chapter posted. As you can see, this is just the beginning of the great big adventure ahead. So much going on all at once! Well please stay tuned to find out how it all works out between Misty, Brock, and Jay! And thank you all so much for being patient for updates. School has been crazy and I don't have much time to sit down and really log on often. But I would like to tell you all again how much I DO APPRECIATE your guy's reviews. :) Your kind words help motivate me to keep writing!

Thank you very much for reading! :D


	5. The Key

**Author's Note: **I have received a couple of repeated questions on this matter, so I will answer one final time. As I stated in chapter one's author's note, this takes place after Ash has traveled ALL the regions. How many more regions there are going to be in the series, I do not know. However, in my mind I pictured this big finale between Ash's family to come to a close once Ash is at last settled back in Pallet... well, for the most part! ;) You can't expect him not to go on a new adventure, and well- I've got plans. Let's just leave it at that without spoiling anything. ;p Also, any new additions to the cast/pairings have been added with a purpose.

As for Ash's age range that is simply what a friend and I settled on when first constructing this story. I know people have different opinions on this matter, and that is perfectly fine, but this is the route I decided to take with my own gut and advice from a friend/fellow writer.

Now that those questions have been cleared up, please enjoy!

**DISCLAIMER: **_Pokémon belongs to Satoshi Tajiri. _My oc's belong to me.

* * *

**Sunlight's Return**

**Chapter 5**

_The Key_

It felt as if his lungs had lost all oxygen.

Staring wide eyed and breathless, Jay cautiously observed the smiling young lady before him. She appeared genuine in her statement, an aura of her trustworthy nature vividly showing him. Team Rocket was blown away thanks to her and her friend's willing aid, and because of that neither one of them appeared to be a threat. Glancing over his shoulder, Jay looked to his brother for confirmation of some kind, receiving a steady nod in return. Drake trusted them and assured Jay to feel the same way.

Yet, keeping his guard up as he so naturally did, the master gawked back at the pair. "So you're Ash's friend?" he started steadily.

Misty's gaze diverted to Brock, still smiling. "We both are. I'm Misty," introduced the redhead, turning back to Jay. "Misty Waterflower. The Cerulean City gym leader."

"And I'm Brock Harrison," the young man stepped forward. "I used to be the gym leader of Pewter, but my brother's taken over for me since I've pursued my medical career."

The names Waterflower and Harrison sounded familiar. If Jay recalled correctly, he battled grown men at both gyms when he first earned the Cascade and Boulder badges all those distant years ago. These two people, he assumed, were the spawns of the former gym leaders. And now were apparently somehow his son's companions as well.

A soft huff with a twinge of a grin burst from Jay's lips. "So my kid managed to snatch up two gym leaders as his friends? Funny," he chortled dryly to himself, folding his arms with a close of his eyes. Then, they flew back open, a shade of seriousness pouring over the icy haze. Lingering blue eyes crept around each corner like daggers, observing the chattering police and the startled civilians around them as if a criminal could be blending in the thick crowd. Sooner than later, he gazed straight back at Misty and Brock.

Jay lowered his voice. "If you're looking for an explanation then we should go talk somewhere with less prying eyes."

* * *

Somewhere during Jay's proposal, the two young adults escaped the hysteria of Misty's sisters, and pursued with cautious eagerness to know the truth nonetheless.

Jay and Drake insisted for Brock and Misty to order whatever they wanted off the menu, representing a thank you for their appearance in their need of help. And the pair complied without a fight. They were both starving, planning to eat something once they got back to the trailer; however their plans had been clearly been put on hold. Stopping at a popular family restaurant in the city, Misty's appetite was satisfied with a southwest salad and Brock found enjoyment in a roast beef dip. The men kept themselves content with their drinks, considering they were still full from their previous meal.

Yet even with the generous offer, questions that deserved answers remained. And Jay cut right to the chase.

"I apologize for being so standoffish earlier," he began, watching Brock and Misty eat, engrossed in their supper. "And not telling you my name. Being in my position, it's not always easy to trust everyone." A cold splash of water glided down Jay's throat after he said this, quenching his thirst after that brutal game of cat and mouse. His eyes grew stern again with curiosity bubbling on the one answer he was begging to know. "So," he said, placing the half-empty glass back on the table, "how did you two meet Ash?"

Misty was the first to look up. For a second, she looked to Brock, only to find him midway in a big bite of his beefy sandwich. Her gaze then trailed back to the man sitting across from her, the man who appeared so familiar yet was a stranger to her all the same. Did she feel enough security to tell him?

Misty couldn't help the smile performing a sneak attack on her lips. "It's actually a funny story. I was- well," she stopped herself, pushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear, "I ran away from home to prove myself as a trainer to my sisters, and I got as far as Rhapsody Falls. I was fishing there, I don't really remember for what, but...the oddest thing happened," she at last confessed, her eyebrows lowering with a faint chuckle. "I got a bite. A real big bite, and then out came- Ash. Out of the river! He was there with Pikachu- Pikachu was his first Pokémon- and he explained to me that he was running away from a flock of Spearow and a Fearow he'd angered. Then he just up and stole my bike to get away. He told me the whole story once it was said and done."

Jay too laughed softly to himself, clenching his water glass again. He stared into the cold liquid. "Sounds like something he'd do," he mused. "I'm assuming everything ended okay?"

A mixture of assurance and slight agitation pounded through Misty's vocal cords. "As okay as it was gonna get. Pikachu defeated the Spearow and Fearow, but he was severely injured... He came out of it all right, though- but my bike didn't."

"You did get your bike back, Misty," Brock suddenly added, taking a gulp of his cherry flavored soda.

The redhead's brows furrowed at the reminder. "Yeah, but he did nothing to fix it. _Nurse Joy_ did."

"Was the bike that important?" Drake suddenly posed, engaging in the conversation.

Brock couldn't resist chuckling a little, and the sharp side-glance Misty gave him from his outburst didn't wave his amusement. "Misty held a grudge against Ash for it," he elucidated. "She hounded him at least once a week about it till we all finally split up." Just bringing up their old traveling days reminded Brock of all those precious times his redheaded companion badgered his other friend who always dismissed his guilt. Which only led to_ more_ badgering.

Misty's gaze finally snapped into an outraged fit. "It was not once a week!..." But thinking about it made the gym leader hold back her tongue. She slipped into a state of embarrassment, realizing that Brock wasn't totally over-exaggerating. "Maybe every few weeks or so," the girl admitted begrudgingly.

"Bottom line, the bike spiel was brought up_ a lot_," Brock decided to sum up, easing his teasing on Misty.

Jay nodded back with an amused smile. "I see." Then, his attention turned to the young man chortling earlier. "And how about you Brock? How did you and Ash run into each other?"

"I met Ash and Misty when Ash came to challenge me for his first badge," he willingly explained. "And he won just with Pikachu."

A brow rose. "Really?" Jay was very much impressed. He knew that types didn't always have the advantage, but for his son to win his first badge based on such a big disadvantage for a newbie was surely intriguing. "What was his technique?"

"Setting off the emergency water sprinklers."

That was definitely not what he was expecting.

Okay, so it turned out Ash won based on pure luck rather than skill or intuition. It was certainly a very interesting way if winning, albeit some might consider it cheating.

"And you gave him the badge, anyway?" Jay chortled a little at this, looking into his glass with a soft shake of his head. "Damn lucky kid."

"He's matured as a trainer a lot since then," Brock clarified quickly, hoping Ash's father wouldn't get the wrong picture. The last thing he wanted was to distort the man's son's beginnings as trainer. After all, Brock considered Ash one of the best trainers he had ever met, and was blessed to be friends with. Thinking such made the young man smile, meeting Jay's eyes. "And now I can see where he gets it from."

Modestly, Jay looked back down.

Apparently, a sensitive spot had been touched, and Brock distanced himself from making further comments. Clearly, relating Ash to himself was something Jay felt uncomfortable with. Drumming his fingers, Brock had to think of something to lighten the air.

His words were dragged out by his thoughts, eyes darting back and forth slowly between the two people across from him. "So," he started, "how do you two know each other?"

Both Jay and Drake focused their attention on the curious teenagers, then on each other. It appeared they reached a silent mutual consensus.

"Promise me you won't tell Ash?" Jay was the first to speak, peering at them seriously, but with a softer tone.

It was Brock and Misty's turn to share a glance. Then, they both nodded.

"Y-yes, we promise," Brock spoke up for them.

Promising, however, did make him wonder continuously as to why he needed to. What was the big secret? What could be so terribly awful for Ash not to know? Brock assumed it was something not so pleasant, given he wasn't holding a crystal ball foretelling the answer. It was just so strange. Drake being added into the equation made no sense whatsoever, and then for Ash's father to randomly make them swear to keep the truth silent?

_Why?_

"We're half-brothers."

In that moment, Brock found keeping his mouth shut so difficult that he had to strain his jaw from flying open with his own sheer might. Misty, on the other hand, did not let her inner self withhold her reaction, as she did exactly what Brock wanted to do. Sea-green eyes gawked at the men before her, looking back and forth between the two before clearly seeing the uncanny connection. It made sense, but then it didn't.

"How is that possible?" she finally croaked, wide eyes examining their every facial similarities and differences.

Jay's frown seeped. "It's called an affair, that's what."

The word affair alone caused a layer of red to skim across the teenagers' cheeks and for their mouths to clamp shut. They didn't need to ask whose doing.

It was obvious Drake was the product of Richard over Emily, considering the physical features. That and the idea of Emily having an affair sounded much more farfetched than Richard. Though only having met Ash's paternal grandparents on a couple of occasions, that reality sounded like a stretch, too. Neither Misty nor Brock had any clue the relationships had been so severely tarnished in the Senior Ketchum home, and that it had taken great a great toll on their own children as well. Not to mention, even if Misty and Brock knew of the scandal, they would have never predicted _Drake_ to be the product.

Not in a million years.

Eventually, Misty's voice broke out in an awkward squeak. "Oh."

"We're, um- I see," Brock corrected, choosing his words carefully.

Sorry wouldn't have been the proper word to use. Even if Brock felt nearly compelled to use it. The confession was, after all, startling and more than challenging to process. So surprising Misty herself found difficulty in knowing what to say, other than the obvious.

"So- I'm assuming Ash has no clue?" she posed, a shy expression wavering across her face.

"Delia knows, but Ash doesn't," answered Jay, hardly moved.

"Why?"

The innocent inquiry from the girl made Drake's brows lower, as if taking the fault for his creation. Feeling the shame. "'Cause Ash doesn't need to know what our father did," Drake clarified, still mildly disgusted. "And as for me- I prefer to disconnect myself from our family. It's... complicated."

And very much understandable.

Misty nodded back without pressing further, and more inner questions swam within her drowning mind. This was one heck of a night. She wondered if that peach soda she nabbed from the fridge was somehow spiked even with it being sealed. Everything was just one big unbelievable blur. From her sisters bringing two men back to the trailer, to Team Rocket's sudden appearance, to the reveal of Ash's_ estranged_ father, and now to Drake's personal connection to the Ketchum family. Misty felt like she had been blindsided. Nevertheless, her curiosity spoke to her, and she never denied it. She wanted answers, even if the situation felt more like a dream than reality.

The gym leader swallowed. "So- why are you two together now?"

A glance was shared between Jay and Drake, silence running thick at their table while the rest of the restaurant was roaring with chatter. As if the motion of a raised brow or quivering eye gave permission to answer, Jay looked back to the two eager teenagers.

"I'm on the run," he blatantly stated. "I've been on the run for ten years."

Another jaw-dropping confession.

Misty's head throbbed with another ache of shock. "What did you do?" she sputtered.

"It wasn't what I did," Jay retorted sharply. "It's what I _didn't_ do."

What he_ didn't_ do? What was that supposed to mean? At this point, Misty didn't know where to stand with the mystifying Mr. Ketchum. She kept telling herself that this shouldn't have happened, that they shouldn't have met on pure coincidence- Yet they did. So for that, Misty was starting to allow her superstitious side to take over her methodical side. _Was_ this meant to be? And was it meant to be because of the secrets the man with icy eyes was concealing?

Misty's brow furrowed. "Okay, then what did you _not_ do?"

"I can't disclose any of those details to you."

"Then leave out the details," she swiftly rebutted.

The lack of patience in her voice provoked Jay to cock a brow at the girl. He watched her carefully as she mimicked him. "Have I given you a reason not to trust me?" he asked openly, a tad confused by her reservation.

Misty's tone dropped. "Not exactly. But you haven't given me any reasons to trust you either."

Smart and swift. This girl definitely had an attitude.

But Jay honestly couldn't blame her for feeling such.

He leaned back slightly in his seat, hands up, as if to confess he had nothing to hide. As if he was open to spill his guts. If he was going to permanently reside in Pallet again, this would be just the first of people distrusting him. "I know, me not being in the picture looks bad," he plainly stated, not seeing any need to hide from the intimidating falsehoods. "But I have a solid reason as to why I'm not. Whatever anyone has told you around town, I'm sure they're lies."

Those lies were tales Misty was conflicted to believe.

She knew of the lies that brought heartbreak to Ash's family, and she saw the forceful cherry mask Ash wore for protection, and the distant expression Delia bared. They had never spoken a negative word about the piece missing in their lives, and when someone who knew little of the situation, or another family member who was displeased with the issue, said something that could have provoked tears or anger, they stood by each other's side. With tension-filled silence. It made Misty wonder if Ash's father's leaving was as bad as everyone said, or the exact opposite completely.

Another serious eye was thrown Jay's way. "Then what's the truth?" Misty dared to ask.

Jay's gaze didn't wander away from her hers. He didn't take long to respond.

"Team Rocket's leader is after me."

Brock nearly choked on his soda, spitting the carbonated drink into his napkin as his gag reflex set in. Watery eyes looked to Jay in disbelief with a groggy voice. "_Giovanni_?" he croaked in the deepest shock he had endured all day.

Jay nodded somberly. "Unfortunately. To give you the short version, while I was still in high school I stopped him and his mother from doing- a very horrible thing. And after a few years passed, with more details I'd really prefer not to go in depth with, he found out who I was exactly, where I lived, and tormented me into leaving my family with no knowledge of my whereabouts or why, or else he'd-" The second pause indicated another terrifying truth neither Misty nor Brock really felt compelled to know. The look alone on Jay's face indicated something unspeakable. Something _bone-chilling_.

"Well, something else that's _very_ bad would happen to my family," he at last declared with somberness and spite. "Something I couldn't forgive myself if I allowed."

How did a semi-pleasant conversation morph into a confession one would see on a crime show?

Just briefly knowing him, Jay already let a more vulnerable side of his emotions present itself. That was the last explanation Misty and Brock would assume to be the truth. The _very_ last thing. The confession of Team Rocket's involvement most certainly took the cake of making the teenagers wear the most flabbergasted expressions they bore all night. They would have thought it was because Jay was selfish, because he wanted to be a Pokémon trainer, or Delia and Jay simply didn't see eye to eye, or maybe an affair... But not this. No, how could this have gone on without Delia's knowing? And did anyone else know for that matter, or was Jay really standing on his own? Standing alone for so many long years, and enduring the blame... All Misty and Brock could agree on at that moment was that Team Rocket's threats must have been terribly horrible for Jay not to say _anything_.

After all, the scarce pictures Delia had of her husband displayed in the house- showed happiness. A time when everything was wonderfully content.

"But... why would he force you to leave home?" Brock questioned, severely puzzled and shell-shocked in his voice and movements. "I mean, I understand you stopped whatever he and his mother were doing but why would he still be after you-"

"Because I- I still don't have a clear picture why. But I can say that... I have something Giovanni might want. And that's about the only logical reason I can deduce."

A gasp was caught in Misty's breath. In her own thoughts. "So that's why..."

Poor Ash. Poor Delia.

Misty's eyes met Jay's with the beginning stages of sadness. Him just saying that much tugged on her heartstrings, overwhelming her with a fleet of emotions. The uncanny bravery Ash and Delia wore across their faces could now be explained, especially when that glimmer of pain shined through.

It would be impossible to deny that it was hard for Ash not to his dad around. How often he would seek refuge behind a smile and a habit of never going into depth about the absent man. There was an obvious affection her friend had for his father; how much Jay did matter to him, and how much it hurt to know he was never going to be there every time he returned home from one of his adventures. It was never outwardly declared, but obvious in his despondent voice whenever a picture swiped his attention.

Then there was Delia...

That was a sorrow on a much more intimate level, and Misty always noticed how fidgety or weak Delia got whenever Ash innocently brought her husband up. Or when something seemed to remind her of her love. And this happened more on the occasion of precious memories, verses any cruel comments or a harsh past. The chestnut hue of Delia's eyes quivered faintly at her husband's mention, but evident for Misty to notice. It wasn't until Misty became her hometown's gym leader and paid on and off visits to a lonely Mrs. Ketchum did she really see the pain clearly. When Jay was in her life, there must have been another beautiful side of Delia that died once he was gone. That left with him. A side only a special person could make bloom again.

Like he was her other half.

Reminding herself of such unfair agony made Misty feel a similar weakness, and a restraint to withhold pooling tears. Ash was her friend. Delia was like a mother to her. She loved them, and knowing they had experienced such pain because of the loss of a loved one was something she couldn't easily dismiss.

The tension was growing too thick and awkward for Jay to bear; however, his anxiety was concealed through his voice. But not his actions.

"I better go pay the bill," he stated, rising from his seat. He was about to leave till he abruptly swiveled on his feet, remembering something he forgot to mention. Or was also too awkward to say. "My name's Jayce, by the way," the man introduced with a soft smile. "But don't feel the need to call me that."

And with that, he left the table and walked to the front of the restaurant, leaving both Misty and Brock unsure of what to think. Jay's thought-provoking words didn't leave them much time to ponder, though.

Misty's phone buzzed. Her hand immediately dove for the device, and then thumbs began to quickly work away at typing a message. Once sending it, Misty stuck it in the front pocket of her burnt-red shorts again. Sea-green eyes timidly glanced up at the islander across from her. The stare didn't last long, as the gym leader's gaze focused back on the swishing of her ice cubes in her iced tea, which was being stirred with a flamboyantly bright green colored straw.

Eventually, she sighed. "I'm sorry about my sisters, Master Drake."

Lily, speaking for all of them, had texted out of jealously that she got to run off and have a "special dinner" with Drake. Of course Misty knew it would pass and that no mean words were exchanged; more than anything, it was just complaining on her envious sisters' part. Still, it was annoying and childish.

Drake lifted his eyes and smiled. "No need to apologize, and please just call me Drake. We're equals." Misty grinned softly back at that. They were technically equals, both being top trainers for their own homes, possibly meeting on a national level if circumstances arose. Still, why did she feel so small compared to Drake? Maybe it was because he was older, and she still had a lot to learn.

The Orange Crew leader paused for a moment, and then almost burst a faint chuckle between his lips. "Come to think of it," he started, looking at the glass half-full, "if it wasn't for your sisters we might not have been there to help stop Team Rocket. I can't thank you guys enough for your cooperation."

She nodded back, but the conversation was left at just that. More silence filled the air as Misty and Brock sat by uncomfortably, still trying to soak in all the new startling faces and explanations. Even if every little detail wasn't given as they wished. However, they were unsure if that would have helped any. It was just... too much to take in. Hard to believe. Hard to know what to feel.

Drake quickly caught on to their discomfort, and made it his mission to clear the air before Jay got back to the table. Leaning forward slightly to them, he lowered his voice. "Listen, I know you're both leery of my brother. I can tell. But he's honestly a good guy. He might be rough around the edges, has vivid flaws," he soon sighed, glancing over his shoulder to catch a glimpse of Jay, "but he really cares about his family," he declared, looking back to the pair. "Believe it or not, he's actually the kind of person you can easily admire. And trust."

Brock was the first to make eye-contact with the islander again. Drake, without question, seemed easier for him to believe verses his supposed brother. Not that Brock didn't want to have faith in the seemingly genuine Mr. Ketchum. But how could he forget what he left behind? How it affected his friend and his family?

"It's just...so much for us to process," the young man spoke, on both his behalf and his friend's.

Drake didn't hesitate to answer. And speak on someone else's behalf as well. "I know. It has been for him too."

* * *

Surfacing out of a murky pool of water caused a deep shiver to cascade all the way through Cassidy's bones.

She stumbled not so graciously out of her and Butch's muddy landing, angrily stomping onto land with drenched locks and mud-streaked cheeks. She flashed furious eyes at her partner, who was still struggling to escape the hold of the dingy water, grabbing a lower tree branch to pull his aching body out. They had no clue where they were, other than they most likely landed in the middle of Fuchsia's thick forest.

"Damn him!" Cassidy soon cursed, only becoming more vexed as the heel of her once perfectly white boot sunk into the wetland. "Blasting us off as if we're the equivalent of Jessie and her squad of losers!" she added with a loud growl, pulling her boot violently out of the earth.

Butch laid pathetically on the mushy ground, his arms stretched out as he panted to catch his breath. The aftereffects may have worn off on his partner due to her justifiable irritation, but the explosion was still weighing heavily on Butch's mind and body.

"Cassidy, you're starting to lose it," he stated weakly, too exhausted to be hostile or listen to any ranting. "And this is only our first encounter with the guy-"

"How can I _not_ lose it?" the blonde-haired woman snapped, sharp eyes piercing his fluttering gaze. "He made fools of us, Biff. _Fools_. No one makes a mockery out of me!"

Like Cassidy, Butch hated to lose. And like any good Team Rocket agent, Butch despised losing a fight to some goody two-shoes, let alone a cocky one at that. Jayce Ketchum was the exact package the wiped-out Brimble described him to be. And warned of. Butch pondered if their plan of attack wasn't as flawless as they had thought to capture the likes of Jay. It was the newest device their organization had designed, and resistant to single attacks. But _combined_ attacks of various types... Butch was beginning to fear thwarting Jay would do absolutely nothing, considering he had proven to be stronger than they thought. Neither one of them expected that attack from the sky and still wondered how he managed to pull that one off...

Gleaming back up at his female partner, Butch braced himself for answer. "Then what do you suggest we do to get back at him?" he asked, sincerely run dry of ideas. All the ones he could think of had ended in failure. At least, he believed they would. "We have no idea where we are, and he might already be out of the city-"

"Don't you worry about that," Cassidy interrupted, reaching into the pocket of her skirt. Pulling her glove covered hand out she revealed her handy dandy cellphone, only to have it be drenched in water. It would take some time for it to dry out, but with her skirt being naturally repellent of a lot of water, the device would hopefully start working again.

"We've got reinforcements," she began to explain, crafting a conniving smile that was all too familiar to Butch as she gleamed down at the phone. Only this time she had a smear of dirt near the left corner of her curving mouth. "They'll take care of him till we can get out of this abhorrent place." Her voice was ridden with harsh disgust again as she flicked off more mud from her free hand. "And once we do, I'm gonna make Jayce Ketchum regret ever messing with the unstoppable duo of Cassidy and Chuck!"

Cassidy's committed declaration towards the starry night sky left Butch feeling something different from the way her promises usually would light passionate flames of similar dedication.

A spark of resentment flared inside of the grunt instead as he grumbled into the moist land. His fingers dug firmly into the soil. "It's _Butch_..."

* * *

Something inside Ash felt rejuvenated that morning.

He woke up with a fresh start, his head not aching heavily from the night's previous interrogation but with excitement and eagerness. Climbing out of bed, Ash swung his legs out of the sheets carefully, for he did not want to disturb his resting Pikachu. The mouse just barely shifted when his master abandoned their soft place of rest, snuggling further into the top blanket to hide his eyes from the sun's shining rays.

As he stood up to stretch, Ash smiled at this and soon his arms hung back down at his sides. Even as they both aged, Pikachu still insisted on snuggling up next to Ash and the teenager never minded. He was his friend Ash could always count on, someone who would always be at his side, simply because he wanted to or he was sniffing out food, never resenting Ash or turning his back on him. Pikachu didn't have a mean bone in his body, and seeing the innocence the Pokémon naturally portrayed only made Ash wish people could be so genuinely sincere with their actions.

With slow but insistent footsteps, the teenager made way to his cluttered desk and yawned. Drowsy eyes and a pair of hands searched for an item buried among the dirty laundry, a pack of gum, books, his pokebelt, his hat, and a banana peel from the other day? Ash shrugged, tossing his forgotten finished snack into a nearby trash can and lucky for him, uncovered the desired object. Sighing in relief, he picked up his cellphone, and turned it on to find the battery life was already fifty percent low.

A mental kick in the head then ensued. Ash glanced over at his clock, covered halfway by a t-shirt and he tried to remember if that article of clothing was clean or not. Quickly ending that pointless ponder, Ash focused back on the task at hand. He knew texting or calling his friends in the morning was usually the best time. He recalled Misty mentioning she always got up early to feed the Pokémon and do daily checkups on the gym before trainers arrived, and Brock was a morning riser by nature. That and he told Ash once during one of their long distant exchanges that he had morning classes. But he knew Brock was on break and Misty was touring, which was the perfect chance for Ash to snag them without delay.

Knowing his battery wouldn't last forever, Ash got to work on his messages. With his feet lifting slightly up in the air, Ash plopped back down on his messy bed stirring Pikachu awake enough to crawl over and crash against Ash's leg. Ash caressed the back of his furry companion, and then went to work with his text message to Brock. He made it brief, but with enough urgency for his older friend to get back to him in a reasonable amount of time. They hadn't seen each other in such a long time that it thrilled Ash to think good ol' Brocko might be swinging by just like the old times. Hanging out under Pallet's warm rays, kicking back on his front porch, only this time they wouldn't be training for any upcoming league. Just simply catching up.

Rereading the message, Ash was satisfied to send the note to Brock. From there, he skimmed through his contacts again and stopped at the sight of her name. _Her_ name.

He stared at Misty's name for a moment, his mouth twisting into a gentle smile he subconsciously formed. For some reason, Ash kind of missed her hitting him over the head or nagging in his ear. After all, he had gotten used to it so much it was strange when she wasn't there to do those annoying things to him. Misty was such a stubborn loudmouth back then, but now Ash saw she had matured into a young woman. As the years passed, the teenager witnessed Misty channel her stubbornness into controlled determination. And her need to always exclaim her feelings refined their details to her giving needed advice or solving a problem rather than actual complaining. Striving higher and higher to morph into a better gym leader, a great water Pokémon trainer. That had become Misty's sole goal ever since they parted ways, and Ash came to realize how much Misty ended up loving her job. It was difficult at first, but she took the task with grace; scared, but used her stubbornness as the determination needed to prove herself. And not just to anyone, but simply for her and her alone.

Ash liked that about Misty. He couldn't deny that she was admirable without even trying. And with age she had also deserted the side ponytail and suspenders. Her haircut and clothes were still not especially girly, still baring a similar feel of her previous traveling pair. Ash knew this because of the recent picture she had sent him. It was during a vacation she had taken with her sisters sometime in the spring, and Ash couldn't get over the fact of how- of how pretty she was. Her sea-green eyes being the thing that truly captivated him and her sweet smile whenever she let her guard down. Ash always thought there was a soft underbelly beneath that strong independent exterior she felt the need to wear...

Snapping back to reality thanks to Pikachu's loud "chu" that extended into a yawn, Ash was about ready to text again. But he stopped. It would be nice- to hear Misty's voice again. He didn't know why, he just thought it would. It was only natural to, Ash tried to reason logically. They hadn't seen each other in so long anyway, let alone had a real conversation over the phone. Sure, texting was fast and sometimes an easier tool of communication, however it was never as if Misty told him not to leave her a message. And maybe if he got lucky, she'd actually pick up her phone.

An overflow of anxiety soared through Ash as he clicked her contact information, calling her without any hesitation. Swallowing a large gulp, Ash shakily pressed the phone to his ear and listened for the first ring. What was the matter with him? It was just Misty. In most instances he felt totally relaxed in her company, ready to tease her or somehow wrap her up in his childish shenanigans. Yet somehow, calling her this time was different and Ash's head was too lightheaded with giddy thoughts to understand why. However, the giddiness was wiped away hastily as the last ring went off. It was Misty's voice-mail. Nevertheless, hearing her voice speak into his ear sent a jolt up his spine. She still sounded the same, yet different in a way that made him swoon. Her voice sounded more grounded and deeper, less "whiny" as he used to define it as.

More pleasurable.

Drifting off in his daydream that took him to some foreign land, Ash regained his focus. Then turning pale, he realized the worst. He was so caught up in his sudden emotions that he didn't even think of what to say. Biting his lip, Ash's mind scrambled with panic, beating himself up for his thoughts to be so consumed by his emotions that now a pause would be at the beginning of his message. So he thought fast, not putting much consideration into the message, but what was riding on the top of his head.

Swallowing nervously, Ash began. "Hey Mist, it's me. Ash. I was uh- just calling to see how you were," he managed to declare, rubbing the back of his head with flushed cheeks. "Actually, I'm gonna be home for a while so if you're available- I mean, not available _available_, but if you're free to like hang out or something you're more than welcome to come down. But don't feel obligated to! You probably have a lot of stuff going on right now, and I think I'm probably wasting my remaining minutes-"

The limit of the message's length cut the flustered teenager off. Boy, had he messed up. Clicking his cellphone off, Ash tossed it aside and rubbed his face vigorously with embarrassment and frustration. Pikachu gazed up at his trainer with sleepy eyes, blinking in confusion at the sight of Ash's upset state. He felt so stupid. Between the stumbling over words and choosing the _wrong_ words to say, Ash was afraid of Misty calling back. Either, he believed, she was going to be peeved or severely perplexed. He had hoped for the second, but knew in the back of his mind that probably wouldn't be the case. Most likely she'd ask questions as to why he'd leave a message like that, and at this rate Ash didn't want to answer. What sounded good to the trainer was crawling underneath a big rock of pity and staying under there till the coast was clear.

Similar to how...

Another gulp slid down Ash's throat and a loss of his rich skin color turned a deadly hue. Ash worried this was what Brock called the start of "girl trouble."

From there, a loud groan escaped from his mouth as he crashed his back into the bed in defeat. Then, he huffed, looking at the underneath portion of his top bunk bed.

Where was his dad when he needed him?

* * *

The disheveled shape of the trailer plagued Misty at the reminder of what caused its damage.

The entire inside was a mess, and she was in no mood to clean any of it up. It appeared as if her sisters tried to organize some of the chaos, but it was clear they didn't spend much time on it. Too exhausted herself after the night's troubles, Misty left the scattered items and spills as they were and ventured off to bed. Nothing settled within her, however, as she and Brock slipped on their pajamas, the unfathomable still trying to process through their heads. How in one night did they manage to not only meet Ash's alienated father, defeat Team Rocket's random attack, as well as have dinner with the man only to discover more mind-boggling facts. If they _were_ facts. Keeping her guard up, Misty was never the kind of person to believe everything firsthand, but Jayce Ketchum and his outlandish stories...

For some reason she- _wanted_ to trust him. Needed to, it felt like.

Slithering out of her covers in a dreary haze, Misty lazily marched into the kitchen area of the trailer. She released a yawn as half-closed eyes scanned the disaster zone waiting to be picked up. Boy, was there a lot of work to do. Knowing she'd be the one doing the majority of it with Brock, Misty sighed and figured it was better to start soon, before her sisters got up and made the minor calamity worse than it already was. Pathetically, her hand reached forward to grab a hand-towel off the counter, only to be interrupted by a friendly but equally as worn-out greeting.

"Mornin.'"

Misty's gaze swiveled over her shoulder. She smiled faintly at the sight of Brock and his spiky unkempt hair. He must have just gotten up too.

"Morning," she replied, turning back to wet the cloth.

It was Brock's turn to yawn, though instead he felt awake enough to rummage through the fridge. Satisfied with a carton of milk, he closed the door. "Man, was last night somethin' else or what?" he commented, sounding very much dumbfounded by the events. He did notice, however, Misty's silence as he reached for a glass out a nearby cabinet, and by the time he began to pour his drink, his expression changed. "You okay, Misty?"

Finally, Misty snapped her attention back to her friend, putting on a forced, reassuring smile. "Yeah, I'm okay." Misty's answer appeared to suffice him enough as he went back to his awaiting drink, however she wasn't sure it was enough for her. "Brock?" Her calling prompted him to raise his head again, a hand clenching the round lid of the milk container as he was caught dead in the middle of screwing it on.

"Do you- don't you think we should do something?" she at last declared, rather than suggested.

"'Bout what?"

"About Mr. Ketchum. It sounds as if he's in more trouble than he bargained for."

A flash towards the counter was made as Brock thought to himself, and steadily he gleamed back at her. "So you've been wondering that too, huh?"

She nodded in return slowly, and her reply led Brock to finally clasping the lid securely on. So she wasn't going crazy, as if she was the only one to care, or possibly read into things. Without her knowledge, Jayce Ketchum's appearance was troubling Brock too, and like her, he didn't know how to go about it.

So Misty tried to explain herself. "It's just- what if there's a way... a way for us to help him?"

Plastered with sudden seriousness, Brock journeyed over to the fridge and put the milk carton back. His eyes fixated on the closed door as he still held on to the elongated handle. "Might be," he breathed. "But I don't know if it's our place."

"It probably isn't," his friend agreed, recognizing both what her head was telling her.

But her heart had a few things to say, too.

What her gut had been busy nagging her about wasn't anything Misty believed could be taken lightly. If Ash's dad was speaking the truth in any of his claims, then more was at stake than his reputation as a father, husband, or person. As extraordinary as his story sounded, it somehow made relative sense, and Misty rather would believe an offbeat explanation that connected the dots than a simple one that didn't add up. Too many good things had been muttered underneath all the negative tales of Mr. Ketchum, and Misty was beginning to think the truth was being buried by lies.

She wanted clearer answers from Ash's father about his leaving. The whole truth.

Feeling overwhelmed with too many emotions, Misty sighed and swallowed. "...I don't know if I can just stand by and watch, Brock. What if Ash and his mom really are in danger? I couldn't live with myself knowing we knew and did nothing."

A painful jab seized Brock in the chest. His friend's words of sheer concern repeated in his head, enhancing the exact same worries he had difficulty sleeping with. What Ash's father claimed to be true was something no one could easily process or buy into, yet here was Brock, wondering if it was so hard to buy into, because it _was_ real. After all, like Misty, the pieces of puzzle were beginning to fit. And maybe that's what frightened him most.

"Misty..." It was his turn to take a pause. With paced feet, Brock came up beside his friend, leaning against the counter next to her with folded arms. His milk was getting lukewarm but he didn't care. "Listen, I want to trust Ash's dad. Really I do. But how do we know if he's telling the truth?"

Shivering sea-green eyes met his. "I can tell. Through his eyes," the gym leader confessed. "He's not lying, Brock. At least, I don't think he is."

The first second she mentioned Ash to his dad she saw that the hardness of his eyes melt into something deeper. Something only a caring father could bear. That's how she knew.

Brock nodded, understandingly. "And Drake believes him too."

"I think that's enough to prove something of his character. It wouldn't make sense for Drake to just go along with this story if Mr. Ketchum was lying, anyway," Misty reasoned, pointing out the obvious. Hoping it would make reality easier to accept. "He just can't be. He can't."

The desperation in her voice led Brock to the impending decision he had wondered if he should pursue. So he did. "Then what do you suggest we do?" he posed suddenly, open for any genuine suggestions. "Go find them and ask more questions? Offer our help against Team Rocket?"

Somber eyes flickered up at him again. "It's better than not trying at all."

* * *

Like Misty and Brock, the night had been rather restless for Jay.

Not only were the bold flowers an eyesore as he and Drake retired to their room for the night, but the unexpected and fast-paced occurrences of the evening still wore on his nerves. Gleaming up at the ceiling was about the only peace the master could get, for it was the only part of the room that wasn't covered in that distasteful wallpaper. It wasn't enough to make him count Mareep, though. Drake, too, struggled with allowing sleep to take over, and heard his brother shift continuously in the bed a few feet away from his. It was to be expected that neither one of them would get an ounce of rest. As they both crashed to the breakfast table that morning, sitting across from one another with blood-shot eyes, it was then the brothers fully realized no one felt revitalized.

But hopefully, a hardy breakfast would do the trick.

Jay must have been rather glazed to not make witty comments about Nancy's overly joyful discovery of finding them dining, and didn't bother sneering at her continuous questioning of their stay. Instead, he dismissed most of her inquiries with basic answers that didn't invite more questioning. In a way, he had still warded off the nosy older woman with his distant attitude, and Drake shamefully was thankful Jay didn't feel inclined enough to be polite or sarcastic enough to entertain the owner.

The cheerlessness in his voice also hadn't changed when it was time to select their first meal for the day. Jay ordered fried eggs easy over rye toast with a shot-glass of pomegranate juice in a bland voice, and then stared off into space as they waited. Particularly, the master's eyes fell upon the Spoink pepper and saltshakers, though Drake knew he wasn't gawking at them because the spices were somehow entrancing. Leaning a hand against his cheek tiredly, Drake found himself watching his brother peculiarly till the food was placed down in front of them. It appeared neither one of them were in a talking mood. Drake, on the contrary, was beginning to stir out of his dreary stupor, and a look of worry crossed his face. When their order arrived Jay gulped down his coffee, grimacing not because of the strong bitter taste but because of his inner thoughts.

He believed the hot caffeinated liquid would be enough to wake him up or do something to get his mind off of things- but it didn't.

An impending assumption infiltrated Drake's mind while he munched away on his biscuits and gravy. So, he decided to speak it.

"Still thinking about those kids?" the islander inquired, hoping he could get his brother to talk.

A pathetic swish occurred in his now messy eggs before he sighed. He had hardly eaten a thing. "How can I not?" Jay finally countered, icy blue eyes dimming to a darker shade. "They seem to know my own son better than I do."

A frown formed across Drake's lips. Suddenly, he didn't feel that hungry, either. He couldn't offer much empathy, and he could hardly imagine the guilt his older brother was carrying. To up and abandon one's only child without giving a genuine reason as to why, and for the child's visions to be tainted by word of nosy folk... And now for Jay to confidently run into friends of his estranged son, and for them to openly tell him things he wished he was there to experience or to hear from the tongue of Ash...

A small smile gained enough courage to raise the corner of Drake's mouth, followed by him leaning forward just slightly to earn his brother's attention. "Hey," he started, barely getting Jay to glimpse up at him. "It's not your fault," Drake reminded, his voice riding with heavy sympathy and firmness.

Jay huffed and looked away. Not his fault... Then why did he feel fully responsible for everything?

A definite sigh flew between his lips. "I wish I could have asked more questions," the master breathed, slamming the fork down in tired frustration.

With lowered eyebrows Drake observed the fork rattle against the sturdy plate, submersed in his own thoughts. "They probably wouldn't tell you what you'd want to hear," he at last replied, knowing all too well what his brother was wishing to be informed of.

That did nothing to lighten Jay's spirits, but it did make him see the reality of it. "Probably."

That seemed to be where the depressing conversation ended. Taking another bite before his gravy and buttery biscuits were officially cold, Drake chewed away as he reached for a map in the pocket of his vest. Opening it up, he began to scan the paper. "Well, I suppose we should plan on where we're going next. With Team Rocket out of the way for a while we should have no problem heading off-"

"That's it."

Drake's eyes glanced up from his map, raising a curious and surprised brow by the exclamatory. "What's it?"

"Ash and Delia can know. They can!"

The lighting up of Jay's sober expression was very much invigorating, but the declaration falling from his lips concerned Drake deeply. Had he finally lost his marbles?

"How on earth did you come to that conclusion?" the islander blurted, his confusion brightly showing as he folded the map back up.

Jay lowered his upper body closer, drawing Drake in with a softer but hopeful response. "Those kids are our answer."

The Orange Crew leader cocked his head to the side, trying to follow. "You think we can somehow get them to help?"

Jay finally broke out a confident grin. "I can _guarantee_ it."

Well that sure was a change in pace. Leaning back, Drake breathed out a sigh and wide eyes were now gaping at the same pepper and saltshakers his brother was originally looking at. Either some desperation to come home unhinged inside of Jay to think the impossible, or he actually had a logical strategy in mind that would make things not only a lot easier on their part, but everyone's.

Bracing himself, Drake met Jay's eyes. "What do you have in mind?"

"Giovanni has no clue about Misty and Brock knowing of me, and I highly doubt Cassidy and whatshisface saw them either. Don't you see? They're our answer to set things straight, Drake!" his voice raised with enthusiasm, a sparkle of sheer optimism radiating from his eyes. "For the police to get involved, for Ash and Delia to know the truth!"

It all sounded good, but Drake hesitated with a raised hand. "Hold on." He had his own opinion to urgently proclaim. "Are you seriously suggesting asking them to trek all the way over to Pallet just to tell your family what's going on? Their lives could be at stake, Jay. We can't afford to lose their lives over a battle that's not theirs to fight."

That Jay wasn't going to argue nor couldn't. He recognized the possible danger in assigning the task to two young people who didn't deserve being caught up in the evolving problem. But what other answer was there? From what Jay could tell, the plan was solid enough to warrant Brock and Misty a safer journey then what they'd have. Feeling almost one-hundred percent confident Team Rocket had no clue of their meeting, it was a chance he felt deserved to be taken. As long as Giovanni didn't know, then Brock and Misty were safe. They could go to Pallet without any suspicious eyes, spill the beans, and hopefully convince Ash and Delia to go to the police with them. To start some kind of investigation before Giovanni figured any of it out.

"But that's the thing, they won't be in any danger," Jay assured, still pressing the proposal. "Like I said, Giovanni knows no connection of them to me, and if they go and tell Ash and Delia what's going on no one will be hurt because it didn't _technically_ come out of my mouth. I will be nowhere near Pallet. And from what I've gathered, it sounds as if they're close to Ash. That he'll trust _and_ believe them. All we need is their cooperation and to make sure they're not following the same path as we are," he concluded, and with that positive outlook began poking at his breakfast again.

It was rather brilliant, much like Jay's other last-minute schemes. He appeared sincerely assured in the approach, and Drake also saw how much Misty and Brock seemed to know about Ash. They all must have been travelling companions for a long time, and had grown a mutual friendship that was apparently lasting. Plus, with Misty and Brock evidently strong trainers with higher positions, they'd be assets to them informing the league as well. And as long as they all played their cards right, everything should work out without any complications. That is, it might be easy for the pair to convince Ash of the truth- but what about Delia? And if Brock and Misty agreed, Jay would have to tell them the grizzly details of his encounter with Team Rocket and entrust them with such vital information. Drake still had his doubts about parts of this idea, and believed that Jay subconsciously shared them too.

But was it his place to burst his brother's bubble?

After taking a short pause, Drake swallowed and answered thoughtfully. "So you're saying if they go and tell Ash and quickly inform the authorities with guaranteed safety for Ash and Delia then-"

"Giovanni wouldn't know what hit him," Jay finished, liking the sound of it. "And by then, we should hopefully be safe and sound at the Indigo League Hall."

Hopefully was heavily said indeed. If it did get out, and Delia and Ash were secure, that didn't mean he and Jay were. That fear shook Drake vividly, and Jay's smile slipped. His anxiety of the unpredictable was warranted, and seeing he had pushed his little brother plenty already, Jay wasn't about to force him into any of it.

But he needed him to understand this.

"Drake," he called gently, lowering his voice again. "I'm not saying this is some miracle that's going to fix everything. But it is an opportunity I'd be foolish not to take."

The seriousness and slight pleading for him to comprehend his position made Drake gaze at his brother once more. There was something swirling inside those engaging blue eyes Drake couldn't ignore. It wasn't anything by force or persuasion- it was purely genuine. A cry that needed a fulfilled answer to his desperate prayers. And as much as a risk this was, Drake wasn't about to be the one to take Jay's last bit of hope away.

Certain, Drake smiled a faint grin. "I suppose we should go find those kids then."

* * *

**Author's Note Cont.:**

And we are left with another cliffhanger. Ah, the suspense! Thank you all for reading. School has been absolutely hectic and I am severely burnt out/stressed after writing so many short analysis essays as well as acing my first big paper with flying colors. As it rewarding, it has been draining and has left me still working on chapter 6… I have a feeling it will be uploaded in March. Forgive me guys! I've just been overwhelmed it's not even funny. But I really do hope you all enjoying the story so far. There is more to come, I promises! Just in stages.

Also I wanted you all to know I adored the lovely reviews I was left with last time. I can't always respond to them, but I greatly appreciate hearing all the kind words. Definitely motivates me! :)


	6. A Plan in Motion

**Author's Note: **You guys are getting this chapter now because my beta reader is super awesome. That's all I can say about it. LOL. Actually, I bused most of this out like a week ago. I was seriously on a writing kick and couldn't stop. Now however, I will have to take a break till spring break arrives. Yes, spring break is coming up. Yay! Just a couple more weeks of school and then I may be able to post more for you guys. AND I am currently working on chapter 2 of _Junk of the Heart_. Haven't forgotten about it! Hopefully that too will be uploaded soon.

Also, in case anyone was interested, I wanted to let you all know I posted a poll on my profile a few days ago. It basically asks what story you as readers would like to read next once I complete _Sunlight's Return_. Of course, the results of the poll won't ultimately determine my decision, but will give me insight on what you guys are most eager to read. :) So please, feel free to vote!

Thanks for being so patient and please enjoy! :)

**DISCLAIMER: **_Pokémon_ belongs to Satoshi Tajiri. My oc's belong to me. :)

* * *

**Sunlight's Return**

**Chapter 6**

_A Plan in Motion_

The groaning of rampaging Tauros and cries of grazing Mareep in the distance filtered Dani's ears.

She had risen early that morning, earlier than Ernest even had. Dashing out to the stalls before the sun was beginning to skim its rays across Pallet, Dani excitedly began the usual routine on the farm and surprised Ernest happily as he eventually found her halfway done with the mandatory chores. There was no other place Dani preferred to be than there on her grandparents' little slice of heaven, and found true enjoyment in raising the Pokémon with such appreciation and tentative care. The sloshing in the mud and slipping on overalls, she supposed, was just a taste of what it felt like to truly be a breeder; a professional and reputable breeder who knew all the ins and outs of certain Pokémon care.

Soaking in her deep thoughts while milking a grazing Miltank, a cast of a human shadow caught the lavender-haired girl off guard. Green eyes wandered upward as she caught sight of a midnight-haired ruffled boy standing before her in the barn filled with the scent of hay. Dani grinned at her cousin and then at Pikachu who was perched cheerfully on his shoulder.

"Glad to see you remembered not to sleep in," she jokingly remarked, tending to squeezing richer, creamy milk out of the udders.

Ash grew a similar smile, catching on to Dani's cheekiness. "Very funny. I actually didn't get much sleep last night," he stated, stretching his arms up. The touch of the sun's warm rays on his arms was soothing.

"Oh?" Dani inquired, still working. "Got a lot on your mind?"

By this time, Ash's hand was gently traveling across the back of the tame Miltank's back. "Kind of..." As the teenager's thoughts trailed off, the sound of dribbles of milk hitting the metal bucket echoing in the red coated barn, Ash's eyes wandered elsewhere. Removing his hand slowly, he watched a peculiar scene unfold. Occurring directly outside the barn's open doors, towards the open field, the trainer observed his grandfather wrangling the crying and scurrying Mareep. This wasn't abnormal, but what was, was _whom_ Ernest was using to corral the downy creatures.

Ash raised an eyebrow curiously. "What's Grandpa doing?"

Blowing a strand of hair away from her eyesight, Dani briefly glanced up then back down at the barely filled bucket. "He's trying to teach Sweetie how to herd," she explained plainly. "But I don't think he's catching on well."

"Sweetie? Why's he trying to make him do that? Aren't Rex and Fly-"

"They're getting older Ash," Dani reminded, painfully at that. "Fly is so stiff, she can hardly move, and Rex isn't too far behind. They're ready for retirement, and Grandpa's seeing if Sweetie can take over. If that doesn't work, then he has to go buy some new Jolteon from a breeder."

It was inevitable to think Rex and Fly would live the lifespan of humans. They were quite frankly old, and had been working past their age of retirement. The Jolteon were as loyal and hardworking as they were to their flock, and were at last winding down and could no longer be motivated to work based on the earnings of pats and treats. Even when they were together, Rex and Fly had become much less rambunctious, barked less, and their greetings to Ash happy and pleasant, as they were no longer consisting of constant licking of the hands and continual jumping. They weren't the same pair of Jolteon Ash and Dani used to play out in the field with as toddlers. They were elderly, and fully deserved to live out the rest of their lives in peace and quiet, with many opportunities of being overly spoiled.

None of that Ash could deny.

But a Leafeon trying to corral a herd of electric types... Sweetie was the kept offspring of Rex and Fly, the one Eevee pup ten-year-old Delia begged to keep when her parents were in the midst of handing them out to other trainers and farmers. But instead of following the same traditional formula, Delia used that small moss rock Jay had brought back from his internship in Sinnoh and used it on her even-tempered Eevee. It was, at the time, a good choice, seeing while taking a class from Prof. Oak Delia was very engrossed in the working of grass types. However, when she left home, married and pregnant, Sweetie, as she so befittingly called him, had become more of a companion to Leah. He always ventured and helped her out in the garden or lay at her feet while she read or cooked. He never really was ordered to go out and do any manual labor. Though by the looks of it, he was trying...

After a short pause, Ash smiled. "Then I'll help," he decided.

Dani quit squeezing the utters of the chewing Miltank and looked up. "How are you going to do that?" she inquired, intrigued.

"You want to be a breeder, Dani. What's the first thing a trainer can do to help integrate a Pokémon into a new working environment?"

Integrate _and_ a new working environment? Either Ash was reading more books or someone had been helping in the expansion of his vocabulary. Nonetheless, Dani grinned faintly at the thought of her once young, naïve cousin and considered Ash's posed question.

"I guess Grandpa would have to see if Sweetie would be eager to work in the first place," the breeder-in-the-making reasoned logically. "If he's not, then most likely he won't be a good candidate for the job. Sweetie is awfully timid, but then again it's not like he's totally disinterested in the Mareep."

Ash nodded back, agreeing with his cousin's thoughts. "Then if Sweetie's interested we just have to figure out a way to help him get into the groove of things 'till he's comfortable with it. And for Grandpa not to have to watch him so much," the teenager added, wincing softly at the sound of Ernest's frustrated hollering.

Dani too heard this, and was still a tad surprised her cousin was so eager to take it all on. When Ernest was agitated, he was never fun to deal with, and a very confused and inexperienced Sweetie didn't sound like a good choice to throw into the mix. Yet here was Ash, excited to take on the challenge and help out.

"You really want to do this?" Dani dared to ask again, continuing to milk the heifer. "It may sound easy but I don't think any changes are going to happen overnight."

"I know that," Ash agreed, seeing her point, but his optimism didn't waver. "But still, why not? You could help me. And maybe Tracey could, too. I think it would be beneficial to all three of us as trainers in a way. And besides," he carried on, now staring back outside of the barn. Ash took in another breath of clean air and sighed inwardly. "I'm gonna be stayin' home for a while. I need something to keep me busy...that involves Pokémon," the trainer finally admitted, not able to resist a short chuckle.

Dani smiled at this. She should have known better. Ash would stick around for anything Pokémon related, especially if it meant helping out his family. It would definitely be a good outlet for him during his stay, and Dani couldn't argue that it wouldn't be a great opportunity for her as well. She loved the farm and all its little wonders, and relieving Ernest of a headache was probably wise for all of them.

Not too long after, Dani came to a decision. "Okay. Let's help Grandpa then."

Ash's smile finally bloomed, his excited stance bouncing Pikachu on his shoulder. "All right!"

"Pika, pika!" the mouse agreed.

"But before we help Grandpa, you can help me clean the Rapidash stalls," Dani suddenly suggested, picking up the bucket from underneath the milked heifer. "I haven't gotten to that yet."

Ash's smile drooped. First it was his mom with the chores and now Dani? At least he could visit the Rapidash, and a quick jaunt around the property did sound tempting to take. Agreeing without a fight, Ash joined Dani by her side and began their way out. However, as their exit started a faint noise erupted inside the Miltank-ridden barn.

A bale of hay rustled, almost sounding as if a hiss originated from within its straw. Then, an abrupt sneeze ensued with the toppling of what sounded like small feet. Batting off a thick layer of hay, none other than Meowth popped out of his hiding place. A large frown was plastered on his furry face as he watched the twerp and his cousin stroll off to another forsaken barn, and groaned at the smell of livestock.

_Dis ain't fair!_ the cat grimaced._ While Jessie and James get to stuffin' deir faces, I gotta be here in dis stingy old barn watchin' for nothin' AND gettin' bitt'n to death! Just a couple of old Jolteon dat can't work anymore, a Leafeon dat doesn't know up from down and some stubborn Miltank-_

Midway through Meowth's mental rant he stopped. The casting of a subtle shadow caught his eye in the upper level of the barn, as if something was doing a balancing act across one of the support beams. A Pokémon, to be precise, that was well known for its great reflexes and landing on its feet without fail. As he spotted the creature, he caught the flash of her fluttering eyelashes and soft meow. She was probably the one that gave him fleas, but now he didn't care.

Meowth finally found something worthwhile during his time of spying. And he liked it without denial.

A silly, hazy, and toothy grin slipped from his mouth. _Oh- she's cute!_

* * *

Tired feet ached and brains were fried from the searching of the supposed _Thornfield Hall Bed and Breakfast_.

Various paths were taken down paved walkways and stops for cars delayed their venture over. But it didn't stop Misty or Brock from pressing forward. After straying far away from the festival's corridors, they eventually believed to have located the temporary dwelling of Ash's father and Drake. The building was, without question, unidentifiable if searching for its residents by the virtual world. All that kept coming up was a beer-themed bed and breakfast located on that specific road, which left the two trainers to assume that business somehow disappeared and was replaced by this- distinctively decorated foundation.

Glancing between a map and the establishment before them, Brock's eyes finally settled on Misty. "I think this is the place they said they were staying at."

She nodded back in agreement, and then her gaze trailed to the blooming rose bushes engulfing the stairwell to the front door. "I'm surprised it's a bed and breakfast and not the Pokémon Center," Misty acknowledged, her eyes sweeping across the scattered flowers.

"Probably was full," reasoned Brock as he rolled up the map.

"Yeah."

At that moment, Misty found herself itching to enter the dwelling but hesitant all at once. Questions begging to be answered pounded in the trainer's head as she fought off her natural instinct to think twice. As much as she hated biting back her words, finding out the full truth left Misty anxious. She wasn't sure exactly why, after all, her speech of aid had rather been both convincing to Brock and even herself. Her heart persuading her to offer her services in any way she could, but her head screaming Team Rocket and a man on the run for ten years was something no one would willingly tangle with.

Yet here was Misty, her friend by her side as they stood with anticipation and a mixture of rising exhilaration. It was thrilling and somewhat terrifying. And neither one was keen on communicating their current feelings on the subject.

Twisting her mouth, Misty's lingered her attention back to the front door, then to Brock again. But she got nothing. "So... should we go in?"

Brock kept staring straight ahead. "I suppose we should- Oh. Just, uh, hold on a second." He pried his phone back out of his pocket again, and quickly began pushing buttons. "'Gotta make sure my mom didn't send me a text this morning."

Misty made a face. "Your mom? Or a _girl_, Brock?"

Okay, so he wasn't checking to see if Lola left him a message. Between wrangling the kids up for breakfast and feeding herself, she was more likely to call around early afternoon. That, or even later. But Misty didn't need to know that. Then again, she probably already picked up on the phone call patterns...

Brock's eyes nervously darted. "Let me speculate just for once without crushing my hopes!" he desperately cried.

His pathetic plea seemed to silence Misty, though that didn't stop her from giving him a look. A look in which he ignored as he anxiously checked his messages. Maybe that girl from his nursing class would call him, and maybe even program his number into her phone-

There were no messages from any girl. But Brock didn't look depressed or utterly saddened that his hopeful love interest decided not to message or call him back. Instead, Brock bore a look of seriousness; a firm stare he wore as he focused on the message, scrolling down with his phone and slowly creasing brow. Misty anxious dipped her toes forward to get a closer peak, though her subtle invasion of privacy was cut short by her friend's speedily gazing at her.

"Looks like I got a message from Ash," he stated bluntly. Then, his gaze dove towards her burnt red short's pocket. "Check yours."

Misty lowered her brows. "Why?"

"Who's the person Ash always associates with me? Who our remaining traveling companion was?"

Misty smiled at that. The recognition of being the original trio was sweet and sentimental. Bringing up such a brief memory made Misty remember how much she missed those days of being just kids, going on crazy adventures with Team Rocket chasing after them, and always knowing she had friends who had her back no matter what kind of silly squabbles erupted between them. Simply recalling all those years ago caused her to replay the meetings of her dearest friends. Brock at the gym and then Ash... Thinking back on that day she fished that messy dark-haired boy out the river, Misty found him to be an irresponsible, inexperienced, and a rash trainer with little to no patience or thought. But now... she clearly had misjudged. And she wasn't shy about admitting that.

Reaching for her phone, Misty did as Brock ordered and was surprised as to what she uncovered. Ash didn't just leave her a text message; he left a voice-mail. Not that him calling was a bad or strange occurrence, but the timing with his father's appearance was too uncanny to be overlooked. That, and the message he left her was very...peculiar, that the fluttering in her stomach couldn't be explained.

Eventually, once she finished listening to the message, Misty spoke. "Me too," she said.

"This is too ironic," he snorted.

Panicked sea-green eyes flashed up at Brock in a hurry, an impending fear riding heavily in Misty's gut. "What should we do, Brock?" she asked outwardly. "What do we say? He asked me if I wanted to come over sometime, and he was so weird about it, too..."

Closely, Brock watched Misty's slight shake of her head and trailing of words. What did she mean by weird? Out of concern and curiosity, he held his hand out.

"Let me listen."

There was slight hesitation, but Misty went ahead and placed her phone in Brock's palm. A biting of her glossed lips followed as she watched him put the phone to his ear, listening to the message himself. He appeared plain and quiet, not easily readable as she anxiously waited by. What was the matter with her? It was just a message, a message of Ash simply inviting her over to catch up like old times. Nothing new or different. So why- why did she feel like something was changing? Was it the fluctuation in his voice, his word choice, the lack of cheeriness and confidence in his tone?

The movement of Misty's gaze to the pavement caught Brock's attention, and he watched his younger friend closely with peculiar eyes as the message wrapped up. Brock was certainly surprised. At first, he wanted to say: 'Well all be damned. Ash finally made a move.' However, Brock decided not to, to prevent the loss of brain cells at the pounding clenched fist. He was dealing with Misty after all.

"He left you a message," he stated plainly, looking to her with an unreadable gaze as he handed the phone back over.

Misty raised a brow as she took the device from it. "Yeah, why?"

"He just texted me."

"So?"

"So, that _means_ somethin', Misty."

The wrinkling of Misty's forehead took over her expression as anxiety ensued. She didn't like where this was going, and felt the conversation was too ridiculous to entertain. "No, it _doesn't_," the redhead countered, faint irritability riding in her vocal cords.

However, it wasn't enough to dismiss Brock's pursuing of the subject. "I think I know a little more about what goes on through a guy's head than you do," he argued swiftly without much debate.

It wasn't over on Misty's account, though. The implications in her view, was like looking for something that was never there to begin with. Brock may have believed he earned the rightful title as "Love Doctor," and that being a male himself, he had the capability of decrypting the words Ash was attempting to communicate. As if it was the "guy code" or something... Shaking her head again, Misty shot him another serious expression.

"Brock," she firmly started, "Ash and I are friends. Just _friends_. There's nothing more to it."

"I know," he nodded understandingly. "But I think it means something that he took time to leave you a minute long message, while he wrote me a brief one."

Misty simply rolled her eyes at that logic. "It's Ash, Brock. His fingers were probably cramping up or something. Or he didn't know how to spell a certain word."

"Sounded like all the words he said would be pretty easy for him to spell to me," her friend responded nonchalantly, although knowing his reply was scratching at the surface of her agitation.

"You know Ash doesn't have a big vocabulary," she retorted boldly, her temper beginning to flare with narrowing brows.

Yet Brock kept up his studying, silent as the grave as he stared. Then, he spoke with resolution. "... You still have feelings for him, don't you?" he more so stated than questioned.

Misty visibly stiffened, eyes wandering to the side with no intention of glancing back. A pooling of blush skimmed across her cheeks as she kept her stare downward. These old feelings... Were they really old? Or just- dormant? Confusion was far too dominate for her to think straight, causing Misty's flustered mind to conquer her face. "I- I don't want to talk about this," she at last declared in a definite breath. "Let's just go in already. We can deal with him later."

Brock remained unmoved as he continued to observe his uncomfortable friend, unsure of what to say. It was silly to him that they had subtly danced around each other for so long, and frankly, he didn't see why his two best friends couldn't come to terms with reality. Where was the harm? If anything, the change could be a good thing. Scary, yes. But good nonetheless. Before the knowledgeable Pokémon doctor in the making could assure Misty rather than rattle her, they were graced with the presences of others. The two men they had sought after that morning.

Walking down the front porch of the establishment, Jay and Drake froze in their tracks, shocked by the teenagers' ironic appearance. Silence took over the air briefly.

Sooner than later, however, Jay looked to his brother and bared a faint smile. "Well, that was easy."

* * *

Among the many occupied tables across the _Butterfree Inn_ dining hall, one in the far back corner spurred a joyful pair who was beyond grateful to have their stomachs filled with a pleasing meal.

Wiping any last remaining crumbs from his upper lip, James released a sigh of satisfaction. "Boy, that hit the spot! That veggie pesto sandwich was divine!" he exclaimed, patting his full gut as he leaned back in his chair. "Meowth sure doesn't know what he's missing! Wonder what he's up to right now?" he soon pondered, cocking a thoughtful look.

Jessie was busy rummaging through her jean pocket, gleaming down as she pulled something from it. "Probably chasing a barn Rattata," she replied sarcastically, as if Meowth was supposed to adjust to his new environment in a mere couple of hours.

Not staring off because of her comment but because of the contents revealed in Jessie's hand, James watched his partner's hand slam onto the tabletop. He raised a surprised brow, continuing to watch her carefully as she discreetly adjusted the rim of her dark red wig, without it revealing any strands of brilliant magenta. That morning, Jessie delivered their disguises to James that she had somehow scrounged up, which didn't shock the man at all; however, what puzzled James was how she decided to handle their scheme, and her insistence to pose as average costumers who could_ afford_ to pay the bill.

Swallowing, James posed a question. "Hey, Jess?"

"Yeah, what?"

"How did you get the money to pay for our meal?"

Jessie's blue eyes gleamed down at the thin pile of cash and change next to the bill, and with no flicker of emotion she answered. "Don't worry about it. All you need to do is play the part of a sap when the twerp's mom comes over."

When the twerp's_ mom_ came over? James bit his lip, trying to recall the elaborate dialogue exchange Jessie had elucidated on their walk to the inn, after dropping Meowth off at the Parker's farm. But somehow, it was ringing a bell. "And how did my part go exactly?" he dared to ask, meekness showing through weak clenched teeth of a smile.

As expected, a groan of annoyance flew from Jessie's mouth. "I told you on the way over, James!"

"Yes, but that old lady selling peaches on the sidewalk distracted me. They looked absolutely scrumptious!" he countered, hoping it was a reasonable excuse. He was so hungry, and that white-haired woman was kind enough to let them sample one peach for free. And too _blind_ for her not to witness the theft of another plump fruit of juiciness. "Though," he continued to comment, going off on another tangent, "her outfit was rather atrocious-"

"Fine, I'll run it by you _one_ more time." As much as she agreed about the elderly woman's outdated wardrobe, that was not the discussion at hand. And Jessie didn't have much time before Donna Reed would bounce over, pleasantly expecting the payment to be ready.

"When she comes over here for our bill, we'll somehow get into a conversation about our 'life,' claiming we're broke, near homeless, and got married right out of high school as we struggle through community college because our 'parents' refuse to lend us aid. And that's because they were against us getting married so young. Do you understand _why_ I'm suggesting this scenario?" she at last asked, hoping the load of information was ingested in one gulp without further repeated questions.

Cupping his chin with his hand, James pondered momentarily. "I believe so," he nodded reasonably. "We sound like pathetic folk she'd easily take pity on- at least listen to. But Jessie, how will we know this story will relate to the twerp's mom enough for her to_ hire_ us out of pity?"

That James made a valid point of. It was one thing to grovel and run a list of a hundred complaints about their supposed "life" to a willing listener, but was any of their "turmoil" _enough_ to earn a job purely out of pathetic compassion? If that was the case, James believed that it had better been a damn good story, even for the likes of Glinda the Good to fall for.

At his questioning Jessie grew a smirk, giving him a quick wink before explaining. "My women's intuition tells me she's one of those girls who married her 'childhood sweetheart.' _That's_ why. That and I've heard the twerp talk about her before."

"In what context?"

"In that she was some farm girl who got married off to a rich snob," Jessie groaned back. "Don't you remember anything about visiting the twerp's _other_ grandparents?"

The mention of the twerp's well-endowed grandparents was plenty to snap James out of the continual questions, and in doing so called attention to himself with a shrill shriek. "Eeek! Don't you remind me about that!" he ordered sharply, more so than in a frightful manner. Though his aggressiveness spoke out of a fearful response, not wanting to be reminded of his childhood that was similar to a Natu being locked up in a cage. "You know I'm sensitive about any home with a barking headmistress, expensive candlesticks, furniture you can't spill anything on and the eerie feeling that your fate has been decided for you since you were in the womb!"

Jessie snorted at her partner's overly dramatic testimony. "Well excuse me if nice things don't bother me!" It may have been a traumatic and not so flowery childhood as most would imagine, but for Jessie, a life of being spoiled and coddled sounded much more pleasing than living in a shack, having snowballs as her favorite treat, and her hair as her best friend... Not that she ever minded any of her quirks. "After coming from a house with practically a dirt floor and no window shutters-"

"Mamma-twerp's coming over!"

James unexpected declaration hushed the both of them, ending their silly altercation with lowered eyes as Delia gracefully pranced over to the pair. She grinned a friendly smile, her pose soft and words spoken sweetly from her genuinely kind mouth. Her overly cheery disposition made Jessie's skin crawl with rising anticipation.

"So, was everything okay?" the agents heard 'mamma-twerp' ask.

"Oh yes!" Jessie was the first to exclaim with a fake smile, adjusting her voice to a lighter level than her usual tone. "Absolutely delicious!"

"We enjoyed every bite of it!" James did the same, only he deepened his already lower voice.

Delia kept her smile the same as she nodded, then posed another question. "I'm so glad. Is there anything else I can get you two then?"

Anxiously, the agents shared a glance. "Actually, I think we've had our allotment," Jessie replied on behalf of both of them.

They only had so much money...but the strawberry cheesecake and blackberry pie on the dessert rack did look awfully tempting... No, they couldn't.

"Well then, thank you both for coming," Delia graciously spoke, removing the payment off the table. "We appreciate your patronage."

Before an attempt at leaving was made on Delia's account, with swift and desperate fingers Jessie clasped her hands together in an eternally thankful pose. She was wearing one of the many faces she used while "acting." "No, thank you for offering such affordable prices," she gushed boldly. "My hubby and I can hardly afford a single meal in Viridian with all its outrageous prices!"

"Hubby?" James croaked softly, nearly choking on his own spit. He remembered they were posing as a married couple, but the pet-name was too sudden for him to process. At least, for some strange reason it startled him...

Delia nodded back all the same, still using a very neutral tone. "Yes, Viridian can be a little expensive sometimes."

"And not in just their food which, by the way, is much lower grade than yours." It never hurt to add a few dashes of brown-nosing when needed. As long as it wasn't obvious to the person one was so effervescently kissing up to. "You see, the apartment my sweetie and I are renting out- the one that we can hardly pay for, well- let me just say," Jessie decided to whisper with a slightly bitten lip, "it costs four times the worth of a measly meal in Viridian."

"Oh, my!"

Just the kind of reaction the agent was wanting and expecting! Cautiously suppressing her self-satisfaction over her cleverness, Jessie continued her act without even a crack of a smile. "Hmhm! Only place that had open housing. And our landlord is _so_ greedy. Isn't he, hon?"

"Uh, yes!" James hastily answered, a forced smile hiding his urge to cough repeatedly. "Yes, he's quite the cheapskate."

"Oh, and the smoke!" Jessie embellished, on a roll with the entire scenario. "With the way he puffs those expensive cigars and those loud parties going on downstairs, I don't know how on earth we'll be able to have our own little one!"

"_Little one_?!"

James nearly stopped himself short of a mad holler before officially ruining their brilliant scheme in the making. And had to swallow his gulp full of water _very _carefully. A sharp glance was hurriedly whirled his way, piercing blue eyes and faint gritting of teeth as if an order for him to keep his mouth shut. He never meant to almost blow their cover with his unrehearsed exclamation. The mention of an unborn baby was never in the plan, nor did he think Jessie would go as far as to suggest _that_. Even if it all was pretend, the wanting of a child with her made him cringe a cringe he had never before.

Thankfully, for both the criminals' sake, Delia either dismissed or simply overlooked James' sudden exclaim from possibly choking again. "Do you both work?" she instead inquired innocently.

The harsh expression worn on Jessie's face softened into something pathetic and lowly. "Sadly, no. I'm trying to go to school to become a- chiropractor and my husband just got laid off."

If either one of them was going to have an imaginary career it was Jessie. She wasn't about to be deemed as some housewife while James was the one earning an education and engaging in social and economic debates. Not that Jessie knew much on either subject to begin with. Though she knew enough to know where to properly place the blame for their "misfortune."

"You can thank the rut in our economy for that," she spat wittily, both with bitterness and implied humor.

Auburn eyebrows lowered. "I'm very sorry to hear about that. Going off on your own for the first time can be rather difficult." Delia out of anyone could speak for herself.

Jessie wanted to grin at that knowing of that. "It's been a hardship," she carried on with a sigh, saddened blue eyes looking to James as if searching for some empathy and love. "And our parents refuse to give us a loan or help us find work! They're not very happy with the match. It's coming to the point where I might have to quit school and- well, I don't want to even think about living on the streets."

With a quivering hand and lip, Jessie averted her gaze to the side and reached for something in her pocket, bringing whatever it was close to her eye, and then twirled back to Delia with a full fledge of tears in the making. "All those things you hear on the news!" she suddenly exclaimed with gusto. "It's terrifying to imagine, let alone experience!"

And she could speak from experience on _several_ occasions. Then again, living in such an atmosphere toughened her up to a whole new level.

This of course, was unknown to Delia. As Jessie went on blubbering and James depressingly gazing down at his empty plate, a sympathetic feeling stirred within the kind woman. The couple before her was rather- peculiar, but they seemed relatively harmless. And who was she to judge? There was plenty of... unique people in Pallet itself, and bearing an understanding of their hardships was enough to win her over. Too ironic to a point, but nevertheless Delia found comfort in seeing another couple similar to her and her husband's (but with much less eccentricities) struggle with burdens relatable to their past ones. She recalled what the feelings of panic, fear, and overall anxiety were like as a newlywed, and how challenging it was to putter through the chaos and swollen ankles without feeling like the world was tumbling down upon her. All the help Delia did gain during that difficult period was greatly appreciated, and with her personally having a baby on the way at the same time, she was twice as thankful for every bit.

Gentle chestnut eyes gleamed down at the struggling couple, the woman's warm heart brewing with an act of kindness in the making. It was the least she could do as a Good Samaritan, right?

"Say," Delia soon started with an upbeat tone, a soft, friendly smile gracing her face, "we might have some positions opening here for waiters and waitresses. We have a big event coming up, and we could use any extra sets of hands who are dedicated to the job."

Jackpot.

As if a light switch had been flicked on, Jessie's tears ceased immediately and with full enthusiasm, she reached for Delia's hand and snatched it in her tight grasp. "Ma'am, I cannot thank you enough from the bottom of my heart and express to you how much we appreciate this! Right?"

"Yes, it's quite kind of you!" This time, James answered on cue. He was baring a tamer version of his "wife's" zealous thankfulness. "My wife and I would be very much obliged if you'd let us have an interview."

"Why don't you two come in tomorrow morning then?" Delia suggested, her heart lightly soaring at their eagerness. "Do either of you have any experience in the restaurant business?"

"We do! I believe I have our food handler's cards in here..." Releasing Delia's loose hand, Jessie dove for her decoy purse, rummaging through it to provide proof. "Have to carry my husband's things around," she explained with a faint laugh. "He loses everything!"

Delia just smiled back. "Oh, I see. Don't worry about showing me now," the woman insisted with a wave of her hand, ending Jessie's long searching through her purse. "If ten o'clock works for you, we can have our meeting then. Of course, you'll be interviewed by the owner so you can bring your cards and resumes in then."

James stared with wide eyes, first looking to Jessie for an explanation. But he received nothing, so hoping he didn't appear panicked, looked back to Delia. "You're _not _the owner?" he asked plainly.

"Oh, no." Delia shook her head. "My mother is. But I'll put in a good word for you two..." She paused for a moment, which slightly left the couple unnerved till another smile grew on Delia's lips. "You know what? Don't worry about the bill," she waved, handing the money back to James.

His eyebrows arched in surprise as his hand lay limp. "Really?"

"Really, it's on the house. Have a nice day, you two, and thank you for coming." Soft footsteps began their exit away from the table, and a single glance to each other ignited gleeful and wide grins on Jessie and James's faces. That is, till the voice of a princess rang through the room again. "And, I'm sorry," Delia suddenly approached the table once more, promptly Jessie and James to act casual again, "but I didn't catch your names."

The one thing Jessie forgot to devise. She didn't need to look to see James nervously gazing at her from the corner of her eye. Damn. Why did she always have to be the one to remember all the little details?

"Uh... Jason and Celia," she finally decided. They seemed like typical names and names that screamed a cute couple with sunny dispositions, pies wafting on their kitchen windowsills, and a movable trailer they took when camping. Yeah, those names sounded like an ordinary couple that would make someone like Jessie gag.

"Jason and Celia Catchen," she repeated, adding in a last name. Delia's name-tag was helpful in that part. "We've been smitten with each other ever since he walked me home in the rain our freshman year because my umbrella broke. It was fate! Remember that darling?"

Another contrived story conjured in less than two minutes. _How did Jessie she do it? _James thought, but kept his wondering to himself. "Oh, yes! I remember like it was just yesterday!" he added just as merrily.

"Well then, Jason and Celia, I will put you both down for ten o'clock tomorrow."

This confirmation only furthered the agents growing grins.

"Wonderful!" exclaimed James as Delia waved goodbye with a twirl.

"And thank you again, Miss!"

"Please, call me Delia," the woman corrected promptly before strutting off again.

Jessie contained a devilish giggle as she wiggled her fingers with her forced waving. "Thank you, _Delia_!"

If she could have cackled like the Wicked Witch of the West, Jessie would have, and without a care, even with Delia freezing in her tracks for a moment. That couple's names...it had to be a coincidence. Continuing her walk, Jessie at last released a faint shrill of a chuckle and admired her looks through the clear crystal of her water glass. She couldn't help but lavish herself with self-credit. Not that her ego needed any more of it.

James, on the other hand, while delighted the plans went through, gave Jessie's satisfied look a raise of his brow. "Well, you're quite the conniving little manipulator," he commented, his arms folded over his chest. "You got us interviews _and_ a free meal."

"So I fibbed and put water-droplets in my eyes," his partner snorted with no guilt, as well as revealing what exactly she was reaching for in her purse earlier...not to his surprise. But who was James to complain? At least the plan was in motion, even if it did require a few fibs and fake tears. Nevertheless, if all went well, Giovanni would _hopefully _be pleased. "At least we're guaranteed to be hired now. And I can keep this cash for other things."

A blank stare crossed James face as he watched Jessie flip through the kept crisp green bills, already beginning to fantasize her next big shopping trip with just fifteen dollars. There were still a couple of things on his mind...

"Say," he finally spoke up, "why did you give me the name Jason?"

Was it really that important? If anything, Jason sounded more believable than Alfonso or Sebastian. It didn't take much creative genius to think of that one.

"I don't know!" Jessie shrugged with an annoyed huff as she tuck the money into her purse. "It just sounded right."

* * *

Quickly as they appeared, Misty and Brock were shuffled into the bed and breakfast.

They were bypassed by Nancy after Jay told some ludicrous lie that Misty was his daughter, and that he was visiting her and her friend under the pretenses of his and his wife's splitting up. His visiting rights apparently were very short. Drake, of course, had no part in it but did not stop his crafty brother from brewing the fib either. If it could get them away from the nosy owner and all the other guests, then by all means Jay had control over the entire scheme.

Eventually, the trainers were led back into the brothers' sanctuary from all the commotion downstairs. It was, however, not as pleasant on the eyes as Brock and Misty would have hoped. Calling the room a 'sanctuary' was a stretch. Clearly, they were desperate to stay _there_.

"This place is uh...interesting," Brock awkwardly said, gawking at his surroundings. He had never seen anyone decorate a room with flowers so distastefully before.

Jay looked over his shoulder momentarily as he went away packing his belongings. The stark decor made him shudder. "It wasn't our first pick," he muttered sourly, shoving some potion and extra pokeballs in his duffle bag.

"We're surprised to see you two," said Drake, leaning against the dresser with his arms folded over his broad chest. "Thankful, actually," he added with a little smile.

Brock's brows rose. "How so?"

"We were coming to look for you," Jay answered, still bitterly zipping up his bag. Nancy and her hundred questions as he pushed 'his daughter and her friend' up the stairs must have gotten to him.

Both of the trainers shared a quick glance as they stood off to the side.

"That's what we were doing," Misty spoke up first, surprised.

Finally, Jay stopped fiddling with his bag. Then, he gazed up at her. "Really?"

"Yeah."

Icy blue eyes traveled back down to his bag. "Huh. Guess we're on the same page then."

With steady knees the master rose back up, all eyes peering on him as he reached full height. What exactly did he mean by "on the same page"? It was becoming rather suspicious that Jay and Drake were looking for them, too, and it only made sense that the brothers were seeking them for similar reasons...

"Not exactly," Misty corrected, cutting to the chase. "What do you both want with us?"

"A small favor," Jay answered, no details falling from his mouth.

Again, questions stumped Misty and Brock's mind. They shared another side glance, and pondered only for a moment before turning back to the two men. This time, Brock took charge in speaking. "How small are we talking?"

A sudden pause swallowed the room. Brock, in particular, stared at Jay oddly, then to Drake, waiting for the response he was expecting to receive. It appeared Drake felt tempted to talk, but instead, Jay gave a thoughtful look and posed a question in return.

"Why were you two looking for us?" the master decided to throw back. He was being polite about it, but a sense of cocky curiosity filtered his vocal cords. "You haven't clarified that."

It was the third time Misty and Brock looked to each other. Saying they were confused by Jay's response was an understatement. They comprehended what he was asking; there was no failure in computing in that department. What they were befuddled about was _why _he felt the need to hear them out first.

Eventually, the trainers looked back at them. "We wanted to offer our assistance," Brock replied openly, with nothing to hide. "Mr. Ketchum, you said that Team Rocket was after you, so...if there's any way we can help, where we won't get in the way, please let us know. We're just concerned if- what you're caught up in is gonna affect your family."

A faint smile graced Jay's face. They _could_ be trusted.

Soon, the master allowed a bigger smile to slip from his lips. "Then you answered your own question."

Surprised, yet somehow not at all, Misty's eyes widened. "You _want_ our help?"

"If it's not too much trouble," he replied, a twinge of seriousness taking over his voice. "I don't expect either of you to agree to any of this, or that the possible danger won't turn you away. Drake or I wouldn't want to see either of you get hurt."

Danger? Hurt? For as long as they fought against the organization, Team Rocket was a cakewalk to Brock and Misty. Sure there were times where it seemed the criminals really amped up their game, but in the long run things always turned out for the best. The heroes always won, with their loved and cared for Pokémon by their sides. However...maybe in this instance it was going to be different._ Much_ different. Either Ash's dad wasn't a talented trainer at all or he was so skilled because of the resistance he built up against Team Rocket. After all, they weren't just dealing with the bumbling trio of Jessie, James, and Meowth. Cassidy and Butch on the other hand...they were a close second.

But Misty and Brock weren't ready to discount anything yet. They agreed silently that it was for the best to hear Ash's father and Drake out. Then from there, they would ultimately make their decision in the supposedly dangerous participation.

"What do you have in mind?" Brock promptly asked, open for discussion but still with a cautious guard.

Jay didn't read into the young man's careful nature, and soon went on with his proposal. He had been thinking, after all, how to approach his son's friends on the matter. "If it's possible, I'd like to ask you both to travel to Pallet. While you're there, I need you to find the appropriate time and talk with my son and wife."

"What about?" Misty posed, anxious for an answer.

Jay smiled very faintly at her eagerness. "I'm getting to that," he said calmly. "I need you two to tell them that I've left for valid reasons. That I've been protecting them."

"From what?" the girl continued to pursue.

_That_ Jay found difficulty explaining in full detail. It was, in a sense, still hard for him to talk about, though he knew Brock and Misty deserved a reasonable explanation. At this moment however, the less said the better.

"From something far greater than our average imagination can comprehend," Jay summed up, seeming to suffice the questioning trainers. They fell silent as he reached for his duffle bag again, searching for something that neither one anticipated. Pulling it out slowly, Jay at last revealed the mystery item, and instantaneously the trainer's mouths fell open. "This is a genuine feather from the legendary bird Ho-Oh," he stated without a single stutter as he held it up by the tip of the quill. "I believe Team Rocket needs this to help fulfill their mission. That mission, however, is still unknown to me."

Waving the feather back and forth slowly in the air, the two trainers were able to get a full look of the magnificent find. It shimmered a new color every time the light hit the barbs of the feather, capturing an effervescent glow of a brilliant color. It was as if seeing the basic colors Brock and Misty knew be renewed into something twice as exquisite and beautiful to gaze at. Red, yellow, orange, green...they all mingled together harmoniously with glittering sparkles glistening across the surface.

Brock continued to gawk at it in amazement. "C-can we touch it?" he dared to ask.

"Sure."

Jay passed the feather over to them gently, and with a careful hand Brock took it in his grasp. Delicately, Misty ran the tips of her fingers over the feathering, feeling the foreign texture most Pokémon scientists and professors would kill to feel. And here was she, just a water Pokémon gym leader, and she was one of the very few touching an authentic Ho-Oh feather. At least, it was claimed to be. But it appeared too real to throw out any accusation of falsehood.

"This is amazing..." Misty soon murmured, mesmerized by it all.

As dazzled as Brock was, too, he still felt a rumble of uncertainty in his gut. It made perfect sense for Team Rocket to want this rare and highly valuable feather, but what_ would_ be their use for it? And why did Jay have it? _How_ did he out of all people get his hands on it? And if the feather was such a burden, why didn't he simply- get rid of it?

"Why didn't you try destroying it?" the Pokémon doctor in training questioned, looking both to Jay or Drake for an answer. "Sure it's an artifact, a beautiful one at that, but is it worth keeping with Team Rocket constantly after you?"

"I've tried that," Jay faintly sighed. "You can't destroy it. It's not brittle at all. And you can't burn it, electrify it, cut it apart with a leaf attack, or use any sort of attack on it. _Nothing_ can destroy it. So my only hope is to entrust it into your hands. This feather will be your proof to my story and should hopefully secure my family's safety as well as yours."

"So this is the item- This is_ the item_ Giovanni wants from you?" It never hurt to double-check, but Brock was positive this was the "item" Jay was mentioning at the restaurant the other night. Unfathomable as it all sounded...

"I believe so," Jay replied. "There's no other logical reason why he'd be after me other than what happened to his mother and what I have. She, um...well, she didn't make it. Let's just put it that way."

She didn't make it? Misty was the first to steal everyone's attention with a shrill gasp, her sea-green eyes shaking at the understanding of Ash's father's words. Did he... Did he _really_-

"You _killed_ her?" she blurted uncontrollably, and regretted her words by the time they were spoken.

Jay lowered his eyebrows, urgent to clear the air but never panicked about it either. He knew in the end he had done nothing wrong and that Madame Boss's death was ultimately not his doing, but her own. Still, it sounded bad at first.

"No- not exactly. Listen, I can tell you the heavier details later," the master insisted, slightly on edge. "All you need to know is a long time ago I accidentally got mixed up in Team Rocket's scheme and the original founder, Giovanni's mother, wanted to use me to summon Ho-Oh so she could use the bird for her corrupt selfish desires. Needless to say, she got what she deserved. And in the end, I got this," he concluded, referring to the feather still in Brock's grasp.

"From Ho-Oh?" Misty asked. She wanted to make sure she was following everything correctly. It was simply too much to process!

Jay nodded with a tired sigh. "Yes."

"You're telling us you actually made it come?-"

"Listen, I know it sounds far-fetched and I probably sound like someone who needs to be checked into a mental hospital, but I'm telling you the truth." His idea of cutting to the chase never meant to be harsh, but Jay was growing exhausted of the questions, even though they were valid and deserved to be asked. He just prayed _continuously_ that Ash's friends would trust him.

And thankfully, someone was there to lend the tired man aid.

"He is." The teenagers' eyes suddenly led back to Drake, who bore similar seriousness as his brother with a twinge of sincere honesty. "It's all true and we wouldn't lie about it," he insisted evenly.

"I swear I'm not messing with you guys." This time, Jay's voice sounded more passionate, a true glimmer of desperation seeping through that icy gaze as he held theirs. "I need your help, but in order for me to get that, we need full cooperation on both of our ends. I promise I will tell you more in detail, in time, but as of now that's the fastest version I can give you," he continued to explain, stony-faced with sternness. "We don't have much time before Team Rocket shows their face again. We've got to get moving to ensure you guys' safety."

There was no denying any of it. Jayce Ketchum wasn't faking, and if he was, then that meant he was a damn good actor. But Brock didn't think so. Misty didn't think so. No. The credible feather, Drake's testimony, and the look of distress in his eyes that _begged_ for some kind of resolution, for everything to _finally_ be resolved...

For him to see Ash and Delia again.

After a short pause, Brock nodded steadily. "Okay."

A look of relief and bona fide thankfulness graced Jay's expression. "Thank you," he breathed, withholding his want to rejoice. "Once you get to Pallet, I will disclose all the details for you to tell them. I don't expect for you to tell them immediately, but sooner than later is preferable."

"But why can't you tell them the truth?" Misty suddenly questioned, still confused by that part. "I know you said it's for their safety, but what are you and Drake going to do-"

"Don't worry about us," Drake assured. "I think the Pokémon League will believe us with our credibility."

"_Your_ credibility?" she repeated with another astonished look. "As in _plural_?"

"I'm a newly high-ranking trainer of sorts," Jay clarified, hoping it would be enough.

"Like a Pokémon Ranger? Or a champion?" Brock posed.

Jay sighed again. There was no getting around those two. It felt he either had to tell them everything or nothing at all. "Was a champion, never was a ranger."

Jay's explanation still wasn't enough to suffice their curious minds, though, and with one look of "go ahead and tell them" from his brother, Drake was _hopefully_ able to cease any further questioning. Or possibly invite a whole slew of new ones.

"He's going to be the next Pokémon Master," Drake bluntly stated, unable to find any other way of confessing the truth.

_The_ next Pokémon Master? The trainers were thrown for another loop, but then again, with all these secrets being disclosed was this new one much of a shocker? Maybe it wasn't the biggest one, but it was up there; knowing this now made Misty and Brock wonder how talented of a trainer Ash's father was. To be deemed as a Pokémon Master meant he was the best of the best, better than even any of the Elite Four members. There hadn't been one in over fifty years, and he was the next one to earn such an incredible title?

Having difficulty fathoming this new discovery Misty threw out another question. "Going to be or are?"

"Technically I already am, but the ceremony at the Indigo League will make it all official," the master stated. "And if you don't mind, please don't spoil the news to Ash and Delia. Unless you absolutely have to."

There was another expression of pathetic insistence that Brock didn't see the need to fight.

"Understood," the young man said.

Continuing on with the plan, Jay took in a deep breath. "I can't step into Pallet or speak to either one of them till I know they're safe. Giovanni forced me to leave by threatening their lives, and while it all could be a bluff I take it _very_ seriously. He wants me to do something for him, use this feather or whatever, and I can't take any more risks than I already have. Drake and I are hoping the league will believe us, and somehow get the police involved for them to handle the matter. Until then_ do not_ breathe a word of your knowledge to anyone. For your own lives.

"However," he breathed again, a flicker of something positive glimmering in his eyes, "there is one person you can turn to in Pallet if you need help or need to communicate with me."

"Who?" asked Misty. This was something she was definitely interested in hearing.

"Go to Prof. Oak," Jay instructed. "He knows about everything. He's the one who's been helping me all this time and is currently conducting research on Ho-Oh. He's trying to figure out what Team Rocket's up to. I'm assuming you both know of him?"

Another shock neither one was expecting nor had time to mull over. Prof. Oak?_ He_ out of_ all_ people was the one in Pallet who was supposedly holding all these secrets, away from Ash and Delia? It made perfect sense with his diverse knowledge and reliability, but would he _really_ conceal information from the Ketchum family without a pang of guilt or regret?

"Y-yeah," Brock sputtered first, stupefied. "We know him really well."

Jay smiled softly. "Glad to hear." His smile, however, wasn't enough to make either teen grin in comfort, urging the master to do more than simply be satisfied. Jay did, after all, want Misty and Brock to feel comfortable. And if they didn't, there was no need for them to pursue any of it.

Swallowing, he started again with a sincere tone. "I know this is difficult to process, but we all should probably get going and split up if we want this to work. And this would be your last opportunity to back out. So if you feel the need to, then do so. I wouldn't blame you, nor do I expect any of this from either of you."

He seemed so...fatherly, especially in Misty's eyes. She imagined the look Jay was giving her was something Ash once used to gaze up at and feel utterly secure with. Bearing faults or not, Jay appeared to be a good man and was obviously very loyal to his family. He cared about Delia and Ash enough to be on the run for ten years, and to accept whatever the future held for his own fate in the matter... It was outrageously risky and harmful to their lives, but Misty and Brock couldn't think of being selfish. Obviously, Jay wanted this badly, and if Team Rocket was planning on distorting the world and abuse the power of legendries for their own evil needs, then that was something neither trainer was about to stand aside and allow to happen.

Not on their watch.

For a long time they gazed at each other, and then with subtle nods looked back at the anxious men before them.

"No," Misty insisted with certainty.

There was no turning back.

"We're in."


	7. Rising Threats and Romance Novels

**Author's Note: **

Here it is my lovely readers! Enjoy the serious and silly madness that is about to ensue! ;)

Also, there is something I would like to bring up. For anyone who hasn't heard, I posted a poll on my profile that asks you all as readers, which story of mine would you like to read next. I wish to give you all a feel/brief idea of what each story will be like if that helps in your voting process.

The sequel to Sunlight's Return of course, follows the next installment of where this story leaves off. I can tell you there will be a lot of developments in family dynamics/relationships. It's going to be a humorous tale, but still have tons of tender and drama filled moments for the Ketchum family. That is all I'm gonna say only because I'd spoil a lot of upcoming developments. ;) Also, this story has the most development plot wise so far. This story will be told in third person like its previous novels.

As for the _Pokémon_ AU inspired by J.J. Abram's hit show _Fringe_, the main pairing will be Pokeshipping. I can tell you that Ash, Misty, Prof. Oak, and Gary will serve as the four main characters. Others however, such as Brock, Delia, Drake… and some other minor characters, will be featured as well. It basically shapes _Fringe's_ theme/ideas into its own original concoction with Pokémon, without being a copycat of the actual _Fringe_ show. More than anything, _Fringe_ is the inspiration for this concept. Again, this all I can say without mentioning spoilers. This story will be told in third person as well.

And lastly, the _Pokémon_ AU inspired by Jane Austen's work. Again, this is Pokeshipping and the pairing dictates more of the story versus the_ Fringe_ AU. It will consist a lot of societal expectations, relationships (both familial/romantic), consequences of one's actions, and the overall stigma during this time period. I guess you could call it a coming of age story. While it mostly draws inspiration from Austen's work, there is a touch of the Bronte's sisters' writing in it too. I can't help myself. I love gothic novels. Lol. Misty is predominately the main character as we view the world through her actions/interactions with others. I've been working on developing Misty's family as well, who is for a spoil, upper class. But of course, we will see PLENTY of familiar faces in the Pokémon universe too and get insight on Ash's family. So those of you who enjoy all the mother/son tender moments, you might enjoy this story! :)

I hope these brief descriptions help those who wish to vote on the poll. Thank you to those who do!

Now enjoy chapter seven. :D

**DISCLAIMER:** _Pokémon_ belongs to Satoshi Tajiri. My oc's belong to me.

* * *

**Sunlight's Return**

**Chapter 7**

_Rising Threats and Romance Novels_

Hurried footsteps traveled down the front porch without looking back.

Misty and Brock walked in front, Brock in particular taking on the responsibility of holding the sacred item. He felt he could handle the pressure that came along with towing the holy feather, and as much as Misty pressed she could, he insisted on job. So without much debate, the four trainers at last bid farewell to the eccentrically decorated inn. The plan, from there, was to take their separate paths to their different destinations. A course to Pallet Town and a course to the Indigo League Hall. While Jay and Drake would travel through Kanto's cities and towns taking specific routes, Misty and Brock would board a ferry in Fuchsia that would take them past Cinnabar Island, past Seafoam Island, and towards Pallet's water borders. Cellphone numbers were exchanged, securely typed into their contact lists to keep in touch during the trips. It was also mutually decided to reveal the contents of the secrets to Ash and Delia once Jay and Drake were in a secure enough setting. In the meantime, Brock and Misty would keep their eyes open and hopefully enjoy a few moments of the natural wonders summer brings.

"Call Drake when you get to Pallet," instructed Jay. His footsteps ended as they reached the edge of the sidewalk. "We'll go from there."

The two trainers nodded in unison. "Okay," Brock responded. "And you want us to go straight to Prof. Oak once we arrive?"

"When you can," the master replied, feeling the trainers had enough pressure on their brave shoulders. "Do it carefully, of course."

Brock nodded again. "We will."

The compromising and understanding seemed illustrated without utterly many words. Yet, there was still this strange feeling circulating through the air. Perhaps after meeting so briefly, the trainers had no choice but to become so close in some respect. And with that closeness delivered the unexpected need to trust and believe.

"Well then," Drake shrugged after a few seconds, his hands hitting the sides of his thighs, "I guess this is it."

"Guess so," Brock answered, feeling the awkward tension of departing as well.

"Be careful out there," Jay warned once more. He felt so responsible for the entire situation, and putting such a dangerous task in the hands of two teenagers made him feel the liability all the more. After all, this was originally _his_ concocted idea.

"We'll be fine," Misty assured, her grip tightening on the strap of her bag. Then, a small smile bloomed on her glossed lips. "And you two do the same."

The two trainers before him...they appeared genuinely kind to Jay. They were, after all, going to great lengths of trouble to lend him aid even though they hardly knew one another. Seeing a peek of who Brock and Misty really were—Jay knew without a doubt they were a blessing in disguise. It wasn't every day that he'd happen to run into two of his son's friends, and that they would turn out to be just as passionate of trainers as they were people.

Eventually, Jay broke out a small smile. "Thank you both," he at last said. "For helping me."

The moment of which appeared to be the final goodbye for the time being ended abruptly when Jay's eyes flashed to the side. The sound of faint chatter pricked his ears, indicating the sound originated down the sidewalk. Looking to the side, he made out what appeared to be a small group of men. From what he could tell, they were most likely around his or Drake's age, and were talking amongst themselves as they moseyed along. However, their sudden appearances, their forced casual demeanor, the random act of them simply traveling down a sidewalk of a bed and breakfast with a few scattered houses around the area...

Jay's eyes narrowed. Those men, with their feet pounding against the cement, their steps growing faster and closer to them with close eyes... Then there was that dark car parked near his- he didn't remember it being there before...

His now overly-used keen senses were telling him something.

Something wasn't right.

"Go," the master ordered softly with a hint of firmness.

Icy blue eyes flashed away from the trainers, and then he looked to his brother. Drake, at first, returned Jay's gaze with a puzzled one of his own, until he glanced behind him. He saw the men and picked up on the same feeling. Instantly, the two men made their first attempt at a vanishing act. But Misty wouldn't have it. Why would they have to leave now? What was the rush? And why did Jay's eyes turn so incredibly cold?

"Go?" the girl echoed, squinting in confusion. "Why?-"

"_Run_."

The stern thickness in Jay's voice had morphed into something alarming, which propelled the two teens to make their move. Only a flash of what seemed to be just an average group of men wandering down the long sidewalk turned their perception upside down. As if they knew their cover had been blown, the small cluster of men dashed toward their direction without giving the anticipating trainers much time to think. Instantly, Brock grabbed hold of Misty's wrist as he tried to lead her to safety. But as they rounded the sharp corner as if they vanished to exist from peril's eyes, a jerk by Misty ended their grand escape.

"Ahh!" Her sudden yelp caught not just Brock but even herself by surprise. It felt as if her body had been jerked back, and what sounded like fabric tearing followed soon after her fumbled escape. Frantic sea-green eyes gleamed down at her burnt-red shorts, discovering a sharp end of the wire from the fence entangled in her now ripping pocket. Misty immediately looked to Brock with panicked hands as she struggled to release herself from the wire's hold. "Brock, I'm stuck!"

The young man quickly swiveled on his feet, his steps hurrying towards his panicked friend. "Just hold on, Misty!"

To Brock's surprise, he was intentionally stopped by none other than Jay. Gawking at him in shock and perplexity, Brock watched the man gracefully toss a pair of keys to Drake, then turned back to the trainer with a narrowing his brows. "There's no time!" he insisted, his voice growing deep with seriousness. "Get out of here! Before they catch you both!"

However, Brock remained where he was standing. "But I can't leave her!-"

His gesture and arguable words were cut off by Misty this time, who was wearing a very assured look. "I'll be fine, Brock," she insisted. The importance of the mission itself could not be blown over this minor misstep, nor was she about to let them both feel the wrath of the consequences. "Just take the feather and go." Then her eyes softened as she witnessed his refusal to leave. He cared too much to simply go. "I'll be okay," breathed Misty with a subtle smile.

He hated to make his exit without her, but submitted to it nonetheless. Jay had stated this task wasn't going to be a harmless adventure- not even comparable to the average danger he and his old traveling companions used to face. No. Obviously, whomever Jay was dealing with meant serious business. Dire enough consequences for the master to insist for Brock to flee... But what of Misty? He wasn't going to leave her, was he?

With one last look that communicated a promise between the trainer and master silently, Brock hurriedly rushed for cover somewhere nearby. Brock saw a glimmer of assurance in Jay's eyes, and hopefully, he wasn't simply wishing for the glimmer to be there just to ensure Misty would be safe.

Thankfully, he wasn't fooling himself.

In a flash, Jay's hands speedily worked to untangle the wire out of Misty's tearing shorts. The hole in the process grew slightly larger, though at this point Misty could care less. He had freed her, not left her alone to face whatever doom. That act alone spoke a million words.

And reminded her of someone else who would willingly do the same.

"C'mon."

With a firm grip Misty took Jays' offered hand and scurried off in a fast-paced blur. The movements happened so rapidly and swiftly that she wasn't prepared to be tossed into the back seat of the car she now realized was Jay's. Settling herself haphazardly in the right hand seat, Misty looked to the man one last time before he slammed the door and ran all the way around to the other side. Drake was already starting the ignition from his side, till Jay slipped in without even caring to buckle in his seat-belt. Instead, he pressed on the gas and turned out of the street without looking back.

In the safe corridors of a flourishing azalea bush, Brock peeked through the tiny leafs. His heart racing, his eyes skimming the surrounding area not knowing which way to look next. Why were they so scared? Why was _he_ so scared? It was just Team Rocket. At least that's who he assumed it was. And what harm could they really do? Then again, like Misty and he had debated, it seemed these Team Rocket agents were much more threatening than whatever fear Jessie and James believed they could strike into them. And that was proven quite vividly to him once his eyes glanced over to his left again. Temper-flaring grunts finally made their way up the long steep sidewalk, harsh eyes glaring at the car escaping their grasp. Brock gulped as he peeled back the few leafs he was able to see from without attracting unwanted attention. These were not ordinary civilians.

The lead one, baring a deep husky voice, froze in his tracks. Then, his heels sharply turned to his fellow agents. "Humph! He thinks he can get away so easily. Fat chance," the grunt snickered. "Let's go, boys!"

Without needing any instructions, the small gang of thugs jumped into what was a black sleek car parked a few spaces behind Jay's. They must have been checking out all the local inns and hotels to locate their prey, explaining their sudden appearance. If the assumption was indeed true, the thought irked Brock and bothered him to a greater level than if the grunts just happened to find Misty and the others upon dumb luck.

At the first drumming of the engine starting, Brock's eyes locked onto the moving threat and soon his gaze traveled with the zooming car.

His pulse rose with a light worried head. _Misty... _

* * *

How did Team Rocket find them?

That horrendous bed and breakfast was the perfect place to hide out! Nobody would look there! That is what Jay and Drake originally thought. But now... It must be thanks to that Cassidy and Whatshisname, was Jay's initial thought, considering they were the ones who located them at the festival. Luck was apparently not on their side as they had thought. And their naiveté was biting them in the butt for it as they sped down Fuchsia's streets, the distance separating them further and further from the bed and breakfast.

Blue eyes soon flashed to the side mirror, catching sight of the abhorrent black vehicle with a red R so subtly stamped on the front, closing in behind them. "Shit," Jay cursed, tightening his grip on the wheel. "They're still riding our tail."

"What do we do?" Drake asked, just as alarmed. "We can't keep up this chase."

"I know," Jay huffed in annoyance. It didn't matter which way he turned or which street he took, they followed them regardless. The only way to lose them was for enough cars to separate the distance between the two vehicles, though as they turned every corner escaping Team Rocket seemed impossible. There was one other option that did sound remotely promising… it just wasn't the safest choice.

Sighing, Jay came to a conclusion. "I guess we have no choice but to turn up the heat."

"What?"

Drake's confused exclamatory was cut short after feeling Jay accelerate the speed they were at. That they went up nearly ten miles per hour, and in a zone that was barely out of the city limits, petrified both Drake and Misty for several reasons. What in God's name was he thinking? Was he _trying_ to get them or someone else killed in the process?! Sure, the section of the city they were in wasn't ridden with traffic, but the idea that _other_ cars were out was enough to justify Drake and Misty's frenzy.

"Are you trying to get a ticket?!" Drake exclaimed, looking to his brother as if he lost his mind.

But Jay kept his cool. "You could put it that way, yes."

"What? Why would you do something like that?!"

"If the police try to stop us, either Team Rocket will be caught or they'll give up on following us. They don't exactly like anything involving the law."

"Yeah, but then _we'll_ get punished- Watchoutwatchout!"

The fast paced and overly dramatic "watch out" was thanks to a cluster of what appeared to be tourists meandering through the crosswalk without a single care. Thankfully, Jay was able to maneuver swiftly around the group, though the speeding car nearly made the group jump out of their skins as well as greatly offend the obvious tour guide. And the incident almost made everyone lose their flashing cameras and prized cheap merchandise.

Racing on forward to Fuchsia's freeway, Jay smirked at his brother. "I'm surprised going this fast bothers you," he commented, while still focusing on the road.

"Riding on Dragonite through the air with _no_ interference is _one_ thing, but driving into _oncoming_ traffic without following _basic_ Driver's Ed rules is another thing altogether!" Drake contradicted, the adrenaline the close encounter gave him still pumping erratically in his chest.

"I concur!" Misty shouted in the backseat, sitting nervously as her fingers dug into the leather interior.

Jay just smirked. "Then it's a good thing I'm not a Driver's Ed instructor."

Even with speeding, every time one of the trainers glanced over their shoulder Team Rocket was still in pursuit of them. The criminals were a few cars separated, but that didn't mean they wouldn't try threatening the lives of other drivers by swerving past them without any hesitation. It was, to call it bluntly, a real car chase Misty only thought she'd see in movies versus actually be a part of. Films that were categorized as action thrillers weren't really her thing, and now being in one for the first time, Misty knew they never would be.

It was an absolute mess. An epic scene that was drawing everyone's attention in the area. One car chasing right after the other; people hurrying to the sidewalks, some screaming; and other folks simply standing with agape mouths. They were attracting a lot of negative attention, which Jay assumed logically would entail the Fuchsia City's police squad arriving at any minute. But it didn't. Time after time, pulling in front of other cars, rudely cutting in front of others, speeding by a school zone, heck even running a few red lights… Nothing. Jay did everything he wouldn't have done on his driving test all those years ago. The irresponsible things he would have witnessed Chad do when they went to take their test. But no. There wasn't a single officer roaming the streets, parked off to the side… It was so unbelievable that it almost offended Jay. The one time he wished to make an explicit scene no one in the law enforcement cared. He made so many offences he would have reported himself!

The last thing the running trainers needed was for Team Rocket to pull out the big guns. Literally. And with how the chase was carrying on, coming closer and closer to the exit of the city, Jay was worried it was about to be carried out very violently.

"You have got to be kidding me," groaned Jay, watching the speedometer. "Where the hell is the law when you need them?"

"Apparently not coming," his brother answered, feeling the hairs still stand up on the back of his neck. "And will you slow down? This isn't getting us anywhere."

Slow down? Jay could think of thousands of reasons not to slow the speed and only a couple for why he should. They hadn't hurt anyone…although Jay knew his actions were violations against the law and that he would admittedly turn in someone who was driving in a similar manner. But Team Rocket was after them! And after dealing with Brimble and his crew for so long, Jay understood what they were capable of. He had been the one kidnapped before, punched, beaten, tied up, and yet he still managed to escape fairly unscathed. So, no. He did not like the idea of slowing down just to turn himself over to Giovanni.

No chance in hell.

Jay's brows creased. "Sure, I'll slow down," he started with a bite of sarcasm. "As long as you're okay with being caught by Team Rocket and having your cover blown, then yeah. I can definitely slow down for you."

In the back, the quietest out of three, still sat Misty who was growing _extremely_ impatient by their bickering. Not to mention the fast ride and the jerky movements were wearing on her muscles and mind. She had had enough.

"Will you two stop arguing?!" the redhead demanded, leaning forward in her seat so they each got a good earful of her hollering. Misty was absolutely fed up with the arguing. They might have been the ones watching the road fully and people within, but she was the one in the backseat listening to it all.

But now she was the one pointing out the newest development. Sea-green eyes widened and a shrill gasp shrieked from her throat as her index finger pointed directly to the road ahead.

"Look out in front of you!" she cried.

Instantly, Jay slowed down and the car came to a screeching halt that, to the passengers inside, took forever to officially stop. Jolted back in their seats with wide eyes and hurting heads, the three trainers blinked and looked to see what obstacle was before them.

And it had to be a cruel joke. A cruel joke of pure irony.

Right before them, waltzing very slowly down the crosswalk that would soon lead them to the freeway, was a round Slowpoke with a glassy gaze, and not only naturally unresponsive itself, but its young trainer appeared to be as well. The trainer, a boy to be precise, was most likely a rookie around the age of ten to twelve. He was taking his sweet time walking as well, his footsteps gradually being made as his prized, absentminded creature waddled right in front of them.

Jay sucked in a deep long breath.

Why them?

A deep growl slipped from Jay's throat as he undid his seatbelt. "Oh, for God's sake..." Without caring about the stunned looks he was given by Misty and Drake, Jay pressed repeatedly on the horn; then, when that wasn't working, he rolled down his window and leaned out. He didn't have time for this nonsense. "Hey!" his baritone voice barked to the trainer. "C'mon kid! Move it!"

Rather alarmed, the boy looked oddly at Jay, but within time made the connection. He was considerably weak, trying to push his Slowpoke along from the behind, though it got him nowhere in the process. Soon, the boy panted and with lowered brows whined back at Jay.

"Uh, I'm trying, mister!"

Jay huffed and slouched back in his seat. Where the hell was the Pokémon's pokeball? Not that he was about to ask that question, because God knew that answer would take even longer to be explained than for the damn Slowpoke to prance to the other side.

"Of all the days..." he grumbled. From there, Jay's head fell into his right hand, and soon his fingers caressed his temple as he tried to collect his wits. But he wasn't given much time.

The screeching, repetitive sound alerted all the streets. Finally, the police were coming with their blaring sirens. And Drake was severely on edge as he gleamed over his shoulder.

"Great," the islander snorted, feeling utterly hopeless. "The cops are after us now."

"Just relax," his older brother ordered, slightly irritated. The Slowpoke was only half-way across.

"_Relax_?" Drake repeated, stupefied. "How can I relax?! Oh, this is my worst nightmare!" he cried, his head leaning back again as it tossed from side to side. "My worst vacation-"

"Just shut up for a minute!" his older brother shouted. If he heard one more word about Drake's precious vacation time he was going to explode. Keeping relatively calm even with his low tolerance for nonsense was all Jay could do to stay fairly even, though with Drake's whining, Misty's flaring temper, drivers behind him yelling, and his impatience, nothing was going to go over well.

"Arrgh, why isn't Team Rocket giving up?" the master eventually blurted, looking behind his shoulder again. They were coming around the corner, and even if a few cars kept them apart, it wouldn't surprise Jay if they jumped out and hauled him away, creating a bigger scene. And the fact that the sirens were blaring directly behind the thug's vehicle.

"They're coming closer!" screeched Misty, alarming the men in the front seats.

Jay produced another groan and pressed on the horn. "C'mon! Go!"

Between Jay's continuing honking of the ear bleeding horn and Drake's mild mental breakdown, Misty had her thoughts circulating through her mind. There must be something she could do. If she got out of the car and helped move the Slowpoke, she wasn't sure her upper body strength would be much assistance and with Team Rocket and the police drawing closer and closer…

At last, the gym leader had her brilliant idea for the day. And all it took was for her to look up.

"I've got an idea!" announced Misty, fiddling with her bag. "Come on out Azurill!"

In a bright flash with a toss of the 'ball, the bubbly round blue water Pokémon appeared out of its holder and happily danced on Misty's lap. Then from there, Misty rose out of her seat, Azurill tucked in one arm as she looked to the men.

"What are you doing?" inquired Drake.

"Open up the roof," she ordered, pointing to the easy accessible sunroof.

Perplexed expressions were shared between Jay and Drake, trying to comprehend what Misty had in mind. However, with her ever-growing impatience, Jay gave up trying to figure her elaborate plan out and did as he was told.

"All right, your highness," he said with a huff, opening the roof as she very sternly asked.

From there, Misty raised her upper body toward the opening, feeling the warm rays of the sun hit her skin. She was able to boost Azurill gently on top of the actual foundation of the car roof, and with that, only one last step was left to execute the plan.

"This will help Slowpoke along," she assured herself, before turning her attention to her Pokémon. "Now Azurill, use water gun on that Slowpoke and push it to the edge of the sidewalk! But gently of course," she reminded. After all, it was not her goal to harm the pink creature, nor did she wish to.

With a quick mind and feet, Azurill did as her master commanded and blasted out a powerful rushing gush of water. "Azurill!"

With one hit, cold, beautifully rich blue water splashed onto the Slowpoke from the rear end, and sent it directly onto the cement. The creature collided with a great thud, shaking its head as it looked to Misty in confusion. The trainer behind the Slowpoke raced up to his Pokémon in concern and as he bent down and checked it over, he gave Misty a very disapproving look. The Pokémon was all right, but nonetheless the action angered the boy.

"Hey, what the heck was that for, lady?!" he hollered angrily.

Misty sweat-dropped and flashed a pathetic wave of an apology. "Sorry, but we're in a rush! Thanks for understanding!"

Hurriedly she grabbed hold of Azurill and slipped back into the car with a soft collision with the seat. "I hope I didn't hurt it," she said worriedly, strapping herself back in.

Jay pressed on the gas. "It's fine."

"Let's just go already!" exclaimed Drake.

And with that, they were off. Zooming away fast enough before Team Rocket violently pulled their car in front of the short line of others, who rightfully, deserved to be furious from all chaos.

"Where the hell did Ketchum go?" the lead grunt, who was driving, asked in puzzlement.

As the criminals gawked around, finding no trace of Jayce Ketchum, they shortly realized there was only one path he could have taken to escape from them. And that path was suddenly closed off. The blasting noise of various sirens engulfed the area, police cars cramming themselves into the space where the supposed speeders had been located. The confusion provoked hysteria as the agents found themselves closed in with no way out. Then, a commanding voice rang over the obnoxious sirens.

"Stop!" they heard a female voice boom over an intercom stationed in the main police vehicle that was behind them. "By the order of Fuchsia City Police, I demand you to come out with your hands up! NOW!"

They were screwed. There was no way they could vanish from the law's eyes this time. It was possible, however, seeing as they were dressed as innocent civilians, to concoct a ridiculous lie that they were chasing down a guy and his crew who'd stolen their Pokémon. With their fake IDs, that would get them out of the pinch. All they needed was-

"Did any of you idiots get a good look at that trainer's license plate?" the lead agent asked, looking about the blank stares he was given.

They all paused.

"Uh... No."

* * *

"So I think it's best, like Leah suggested, to start with soup and salad. And not a warm soup. A _cold_ soup. It's summer. One that's perhaps ethnic-"

Emily paused.

When she was included to have some say and input in the inn's anniversary preparations, the woman had no clue the likes of a certain someone would be helping out. Someone in her daughter-in-law's family who she had hardly interacted with up to this point. And from this experience alone, never wished to interact with again.

Staring blankly at the man, Emily raised a puzzled brow. "Why are you staring off into space like a slowpoke who hasn't had an 'aha' moment in days?"

Eventually, Ernest's young brother, Leo, blinked. "I just realized something."

"Dare I ask what?" retorted Emily, dreading it all.

"I get hungover on days I don't drink."

That should have been expected.

Also sitting at the table were Leah and Michelle. Leah was caught looking over patterns and various design packets Emily had brought with her to the inn, while Michelle was jotting down all their notes for the special menu of the evening. And now Leo, who, being family, just had to be included, was interrupting the delicate process with a very strange personal dilemma. Ernest trying to make his brother give aid by offering service from his restaurant was appreciated by Leah with every fiber of her being. They were short on staff currently, and swamped with the fact that nearly the entire town planned on showing up. So naturally, a little extra help was needed with at least the appetizers. But knowing how Leo operated, Leah doubted it was going to work.

And this was just the start of it all.

The fast swiveling of Michelle's pen stopped as she looked to Leo oddly. "That's...peculiar."

"I know, right?" he agreed, not sensing her tone as he simply lounged back in his chair. "I mean I've got some hardcore metal band playin' the drums like there's no tomorrow up in there and I can't figure out why."

"Perhaps it's all that sugar you insist on serving in that accursed business of yours," Emily threw in, already becoming annoyed at the conversation based upon the man's poor drinking habits...and his voice.

"I don't eat sugar- wait," Leo started slowly, eyes wide and full of vacancy.

"What?" said Michelle, watching him closely.

"I _did_ spike my orange juice at breakfast this morning," he announced, as if the wheels in his brain were beginning to turn.

"Good grief," Emily moaned, eyes darting up towards the ceiling.

"And I had a candy bar!" the dishwater blonde man exclaimed, the pieces fitting perfectly together for his mind to come to a restful conclusion.

If this was what the entire meeting was going to consist of, then Emily was in desperate need of a gimlet and some aspirin. Not that the two should ever be mixed, though. But at this rate, she was willing to try anything to numb the twitching in her eye.

Thankfully, to everyone's already intolerant state to nonsense, Leah, being the most even tempered, stepped in. "We_ really_ need focus on this, Leo," she made sure to empathize, hoping to get everyone back on track.

And without any complaint, he nodded and folded his arms across his chest. "I'm down with it."

Holding the pen steady in her hand again, Michelle refocused her attention. "So do we want cold soup versus warm soup?" she doubled-checked.

"I just said that it would be better accompaniment considering the time of year we're in," Emily answered rather rudely, though Michelle ignored the woman's impatient remark. Her pen, though, held tightly in her hand, swiveled vigorously against the lined notebook paper. Never mind _she_ was the one prepping and cooking the entire meal. Emily was supposed to give advice on a proper color palette for the decorations and table cloths for the elaborate dinner, _not _the dinner itself.

Out of the blue, Leo declared his own personal preference. And it wasn't needed or asked for. "I like warm soup," he said plainly.

Emily tapped her perfectly filed nails against the table top. "Not_ this_ again."

"I mean I've got my allergies actin' up," Leo felt inclined to explain all the grizzly details of his summer sneezes and coughs. "It's good on my sore throat from all the hackin' and coughin' up junk-"

"But that's not what we want," argued Emily before anyone could interject. Though she believed she was speaking on everyone's behalf.

"I'll just make it warm and then cool it off for everyone else," Leo retorted, becoming slightly miffed at the woman's constant demands and remarks. "No one will know the difference."

"Yes they _will_, because everyone _knows_ there are certain soups you eat _hot_ and some you eat _cold_-"

"Let's just move on to the salads, shall we?" Leah tried to interject, her forced smile quivering as the heightened vexation rose. What did she do wrong to get stuck with an in-law like Leo...or Emily?

"I'm cool with that," Leo replied, calming down. "Salads are supposed to be cold."

One would think most salads would consist of a chilled touch to the teeth. However, Emily of course, had her own ideas to throw into the mix.

"To go with the ethnic vibe perhaps we should have a warm slaw instead."

"Now hold on!" Leo exclaimed, as if riled up by the concept of creating something out of his comfort zone. "All the slaws I make are cold! Are you tellin' me you want me to zap one in the microwave for you?"

"Of course not!" Emily scoffed, confounded he'd suggest such a ludicrous idea. "You can't make warm slaw in a microwave!"

"Look, I can make you cold cole slaw out of a package-"

"You don't make your own cole slaw?" Michelle cut in, surprised. She was a masterful chef, and to her, everything should be made from scratch or at least with reputable sources.

"Never have and never will," he confessed without any regrets. "Never hurt my business any."

That Emily contradicted. "Until the health inspector comes and sees your place," she grumbled, gazing off to the side.

Her slip of the tongue, whether she cared or not, was heard and was not taken lightly by Leo. He held the Pancake House to his form of high standards, being the only breakfast joint in their dinky town.

Leaning forward across the table, he wagged his finger towards Emily's face. "Hey, those are fightin' words-"

"Uggh, Leo! Where the hell have you been?"

The sudden exclaim was made by a woman, who came up to their table with an obnoxious pair of jingling seashell earrings, a long tie dye dress, and bore locks of wavy dirty-blonde hair. It was Leo's prized wife, Sunshine, who looked and sounded just as dazed as he did. They were the perfect match, and apparently, she had a bone to pick with him that couldn't wait.

"We're open, I can't find the new menus, and I've got a killer hangover," she openly explained, not caring or seeing she had interrupted their meeting.

"I'm talking with Leah and her staff, Sunshine," her husband replied, motioning to the ladies across from him. "About catering the appetizers for the party."

Leo's explanation only made Sunshine's forehead wrinkle. "You're not a caterer."

"I know. Try tellin' her that," he agreed, pointing the blame to Leah. "But she's my brother's woman, I got no other option."

"But you're not a caterer," Sunshine repeated, thinking somehow everyone would get that fact drilled into their minds. "He's not a caterer," she continued, now actually looking to Leah, who passively nodded and smiled back in agreement.

As the pointless conversation persisted, Emily finally gave up paying any attention to the two "lower class invalids" before her, and found her surroundings more entertaining to watch versus the debate if Leo could rightfully be deemed a caterer or not. She already knew the answer to that question. But what she didn't know was what exactly Delia was chatting with the mayor about. They were sitting only a few tables away, some papers scattered in front of them, most likely discussing the very function itself. That was all fine and dandy; however, with Emily's already nosy personality and the rumors circulating around the mayor's divorce, she didn't want her daughter-in-law accidentally getting entangled in the web of such a vicious Ariados as the mayor himself. She did, after all, find Delia to still be the naïve, ditzy girl who her son brought home for dinner. Someone who might easily take the bait for a "broken" and "hurting" man who was in need of comfort.

Even though that wasn't the case at all.

"I hear ya," Leo answered his wife, snapping Emily's attention back into focus. "I'm just tryin' to bank some extra cash so we don't have to stay open seven days a week."

That statement alone earned an aghast and dumbfounded look from Sunshine. Then, a loud scoff followed from her stunned mouth. "We're open _seven_ days a week? Who decided that?!"

"Don't look at me," her husband shrugged. "I dunno. I guess one of us did, at some point."

"It's stupid," she scoffed again.

"I know!"

At this point, Sunshine was in the midst of her dramatic exit, till she remembered why she came into the establishment in the first place.

"Help me find those menus!" the whiny woman ordered, storming out of the inn with her rattling seashell earrings.

Like a faithful Flareon to its master, Leo rose from his seat without further argument. Honestly, he had been looking for those new menus too that morning, so he supposed he'd find them now instead of later. "I'll be back," he announced to the women, as if he would be missed. "And I still think the soup will work by coolin' it off."

That last comment alone as he strutted off sent Emily over the edge. Another roll of her eyes could not be held back, and a desperate expression was given to Leah at her left. "What kind of family has my son married into?" she cried out. "What kind of family have _you_ married into?"

"It's just Leo who's the black sheep. _Believe_ me," Leah heavily stressed. Comparing Ernest to Leo...was like comparing day to night. It didn't make sense. And frankly, Leah never knew it would.

"Well you shouldn't let him talk about you like that," Emily insisted sharply. "Especially in front of you."

"Yes well, he's high or drunk half of the time so it's not worth the fight," Leah rebutted, straightening the small stack of papers she had with her. Then, she slapped them back down on the table with an exasperated sigh. "Let's just make some decisions while he's gone. Perhaps even omitting his help altogether?"

"I thought you'd never say that!" Michelle couldn't resist exclaiming. Relieved couldn't begin to describe how she felt about that suggestion. "We'll do just fine without him. We'll just have to pay our staff extra. Besides, if I have Delia as second in command, we can definitely do the appetizers on top of the desserts and entrees!" she added with enthusiasm, totally pumped about the idea. "But tell Ernest it was nice of him to offer- Leo."

Leah nodded, silently stating she would. She supposed it was just Ernest's way of getting his young brother more involved with the family. However, Leah didn't think, since he and Leo hardly ever talked, that Ernest fully understood the man's cooperation to partake in such an endeavor. And what he was capable of understanding.

Finally wrapping the last minute arrangements up with the mayor, Delia bid him a polite goodbye and ventured to the table where her mother and the others sat. She smiled a tired grin at the group, excited to be a part of the preparations she was so eager to lend ideas to.

"Sorry about that," Delia apologized, taking a seat in the chair Leo originally sat in. "Now, where were we?"

"We decided to- decline Leo's help over cold soups and warm slaws," Leah explained. She had to choose her word choice carefully. Firing just sounded too harsh. "I will just have to tell him the news when he gets back." And that would surely be a fun chore to tackle.

Delia blinked back. She wondered what all the bickering was about- and Sunshine's dramatic entrance. "Oh, well I could have told you that," she not so shamefully said.

"Despite his interruptions, from my notes it seems we got a lot of things squared away. So I guess the meeting's over?"

"You mean I missed that much?" said Delia, a little disappointed she wasn't a part of the decision making.

But Leah put her worries to rest with a warm smile. "Don't worry, honey. It wasn't a big deal. Really. Emily is helping us with décor, and you and Michelle will be in charge of the entire meal."

"Plus the appetizer course?" her daughter questioned, considering Leo was 'excused' from his expectations.

"Plus the appetizer course. If that's okay."

"Yeah," she nodded, trying to wrap her mind around everything. "It'll be fine."

From there, the four women rose from their seats, each gathering their belongings to clear the table. Emily, though, still had one last question before officially departing.

"Well then, Leah, when would you like the finished layout?" she asked, appearing open to options.

"Sometime this upcoming week," replied Leah. "If that's doable with your schedule."

"That's perfectly fine."

"And I apologize for my brother-in-law," Leah threw in suddenly. She felt horrible for the whole ordeal. It was silly and avoidable, and knowing how touchy Emily already was, well- she didn't want to make a bad impression in front of her daughter's mother-in-law. Considering she and Leah had always been civil with one another.

Thankfully, Emily understood. "Don't," the wealthy woman insisted, swinging her leather strap purse over her shoulder. "It's not your fault his IQ is lower than a Maijkarp's."

"That I second," Michelle chuckled a little. "We'll see you soon, Emily."

"Yes," she nodded. "See you both next week."

And that was supposed to be it. Yes, the four women were scheduled to go finish their own personal business. At least, that's what Delia believed. Strutting back to the front counter she was suddenly "barked" at by the person she did not want to engage in a deep discussion with.

"Delia?" the voice called sharply. "I would like a word with you, _please_."

The woman froze in her tracks with an uncomfortable tingle shooting up her spine. Oh, it was her mother-in-law, and Delia could only guess what Emily wanted. She was, after all, using her "come over and talk to me regardless if you have plans or simply want to engage in a conversation" tone. Holding her tongue, Delia responded promptly. "Okay." Then, turning on her heels with slight irritation, Delia walked back to Emily and soon stood before her mother-in-law. She could only pray it was something about the party and nothing about her personal life. Though Delia knew that was a stretch.

"What is it, Emily?" she asked, hiding whatever agitation she had in her voice.

"Are you lonely?" Emily asked outwardly, standing stiff and motionless.

Delia's jaw fell open. "What?-"

"It's just the way you were chatting things up with the mayor. It appeared you were enjoying his company."

"Emily-" She didn't know what to say. What was Emily thinking? Then again, could one ever understand _what_ she was thinking or _how_ her thought process worked? And why was_ she_ watching them as she was in the middle of her own meeting? Was she that bored? Shaking off the shock, Delia tried not losing her cool from the frenzy her mother-in-law was putting her in. There was nothing to hide, but just the idea that Emily would assume something like that made her feel...uncomfortable. As if in Emily's view, a smile meant more than just a friendly expression.

"Not to be rude, but what you're insinuating I find to be very hurtful and untrue," confessed Delia, not really caring whether Emily wished to hear her earnest response or not. "I have no feelings for Frederick. We were talking business. That's all."

It appeared in all actuality that Frederick, the mayor everyone looked up to with the highest praise, was close to blubbering about his now distant wife, Minnie. "Meanie Minnie" as Delia and Michelle so innocently nicknamed the bitter woman after the whole bake sale escapade... Delia wasn't proud of it. But Meanie Minnie was asking for a lot more than just a high school pet name for a typical mean girl.

If the conversation was consisting of anything juicy, the mayor was coming off rather weak- and desperate to mend things back together, for he was blindsided by the divorce and his spouse's harsh accusations. And all Delia wanted was his guest list for the evening, what entree he wished for, and if he felt compelled to make some kind of opening speech. So staying out of the spat, Delia offered the best distant condolences she could and an available seat if his wife chose to accompany him to the party. Those promises were nothing of any romantic provocation, and Delia certainly didn't want to witness a marriage destroy itself. God knew she could speak from similar experiences...

But Emily didn't need to know all of that. No. It was none of her business. And quite frankly, Delia knew it was none of hers as well.

"I didn't believe _you_ were coming onto him," Emily swiftly corrected, her brows narrowing. "What I _thought_ was that you didn't mind his flirtatious behavior."

"Well if you heard what he was saying you wouldn't deem it as flirtatious," the woman insisted, finding the whole conversation absurd. "I don't think selecting his main entree for the evening or where an available parking space would be for the event falls into the context of a romantic discussion."

"Oh, you can turn any word or phrase into a sexual perversion," Delia's mother-in-law scoffed, as if the woman's words meant nothing.

"What are you getting at?" asked Delia, folding her arms.

Pursed lips and wandering eyes were exaggerated on her face as Emily avoided eye contact. These types of talks with her daughter-in-law, the signs of subtle affection...they weren't easy for her. Or for anyone for that matter. "I'm just worried about you. Am I not allowed to worry?" the older woman added defensively, as if it was a crime.

Delia's gaze softened. "Of course you are," she sighed. "But honestly Emily, there is no reason to worry. I'm great! I've got Ash home, an amazing business, support from my family. I don't need anything else."

This just made the older woman snort. "Except a man," she mumbled.

In response, Delia's eyebrows furrowed. "A man does not necessarily complete a woman."

"I know that!" Her hiss was strong, but not as strong as the look she gave back to Delia. As if she didn't understand that a woman could stand on her own two feet. Heck, Emily probably _was_ the prime example of an independent woman, who could climb mountains, work miracles, solve intricate tight pinches...or plan frivolous parties and boss maids and her children around.

"I'm just saying you were used to having a companion in your life," Emily furthered to explain, her temper dying down a bit. "And now that he is not here, it's still somewhat hard for you to adjust to. Believe me, I _can_ see it. You have let go of a lot, Delia. I am not denying that. Many unfortunate circumstances in regards to the past- with my _son_ have been let go of and forgiven," she bitterly added, a sharp glaze casting over her eyes. "However, I don't believe it has fully left you as you would like to believe."

Delia fully disagreed.

"It has. _Honestly_. I've moved on."

"But you still harbor feelings for him?" provoked the older woman.

That was an easy question to answer, yet complicated at the same time. The letter Delia had received on the day Ash left for his journey...it washed many negative feelings away. Back into the depths of the deep dark sea where they belonged. Still, the pain, the missing, the wanting, the need for definite _closure_ were there. Those feelings had not faded. Even though her husband had said neither she nor Ash were the reasons for his leaving. And that he still cared so deeply for both of them. That he still loved them.

The question that haunted her was: what were the details of his leaving? And _when_ would he come back? He said he wanted to...but couldn't.

Feeling the start of droplets forming in her eyes, Delia withheld any tears and instead put on a brave face. "I will always have feelings for Jayce," she admitted, not afraid to say it any longer. "But he's not here. And I have to accept that. No matter how much I wish for things to be different."

For a moment, Emily stared at her. Then, she came to a resolution. "Very well. I just know with..." She took a moment to consider her words; then, began again quietly. "With a certain time approaching... I thought-"

"I know what you're trying to say, Emily. And it's okay. _I'll_ be okay," she empathized sincerely.

That certain time approaching...Delia too had thought about it. And it was drawing close.

It seemed that the reassurance did more good than harm in the discussion, thus ending Emily's tirade of worries. "If you say so," she replied, seeming to have simmered down. However, a flicker of something stern graced her lips, which transitioned into a deep frown. "But you should get out and do something. Watching those soap operas of yours and your insistent need to clean your own house isn't going to solve the problem," Emily continued to rebuke harshly. "You can only distract yourself from the truth for so long... I can speak from experience. Now, go out and live a little, for God's sake!"

For one moment, Delia really believed she and her mother-in-law were having a heart-to-heart discussion. But it was all wiped away at the stinging reminder that she needed to do more with her time than reduce herself to the likes of an eighty-year-old woman.

* * *

The road out of Fuchsia City was undeniably quiet. Almost content.

Beyond relieved to be far away from Team Rocket's clutches, however, travelling down a road to which she didn't know was going to lead her next with two men who she hardly knew for more than a day...that was something she had difficulty processing. Yet even with the given situation, Misty was beginning to feel safe in the company of Jay and Drake. It was still rather new and very much strange; nevertheless from what actions were exhibited to her, the gym leader knew she was secure with their watchful eyes. They had proven to be good people so far, and now being stuck with them, Misty didn't want to think otherwise. And she didn't want Brock to be up in arms about the situation either. So once feeling calm enough to dial his number, Misty rang him up. It only took one ring for him to answer, and he bore a heavy tone of concern and panic. Gently, Misty eased her worried friend who couldn't help but treat her like a baby sister.

"Hey, it's me," she announced calmly. "No, no. I'm okay."

"You sure?" Brock's voice crackled over the cellphone, still troubled.

"Yeah," she said.

"Well, what happened?" he persisted, eager to hear all the details. Once Team Rocket flew by in their speedy vehicle, he journeyed back to Misty's sisters on foot. Along the way, he couldn't help but think of the worst case scenarios.

"Let's just say we are officially in the middle of nowhere." That is, what it looked like to her. It was a long winding road, filled with nothing but trees and more trees. It had been a very long time since she traveled across Kanto by foot, though she knew wherever they were going, the paved road would eventually lead them to some kind of city. "How 'bout you? Did you get back to my sisters okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. They were asking where you were, so I told them."

Misty snorted softly, only imagining how they'd react. "How did they take it?"

She could hear him sigh heavily over the phone. So, Misty braced herself.

"Let's just say they're envious."

Figured.

A roll of her sea-green eyes slipped. "Well if they knew the whole story, they wouldn't be."

Being chased down in the city by a threatening organization while avoiding any penalties from the law or accidentally harming innocent civilians in the process…and trusting the hands of Ash's father, who she hardly knew in the first place. Yes. To Misty, that sounded like a _real_ blast. Something her sisters would surely wish to be a part of.

Brock caught on to her irritation, and felt it best not to aggravate it anymore. He already got a harsh lecture from Daisy as to why he'd let her run off like that. The only answer that he could give was that the circumstances were complicated, and that Jay was indeed someone they knew. The accidental reveal that he was Ash's father seemed to cause effervescent giggles to burst between the sisters' lips. To them, they were under the impression that their brave little sister was escorting her secret crush's father back to his family and would hopefully get admiration for her efforts by Ash himself.

So Brock knew that it was best to give Misty the condensed version.

After Misty's reply, they both fell silent over the phone. Though there was one question riding heavily in Brock's mind. What were they to do next? Now with the plan all contorted, would their tactic need to be altered?

"So," he breathed slowly, considering his words carefully, "do you need us to come and get you?"

That was a question Misty had been asking herself ever since they officially exited Fuchsia. Of course the gym leader felt more secure riding with Brock and her sisters, taking part in the plan she was originally assigned to do. But now...

"I think my cover has been blown," Misty declared, even though she hated to admit the dilemma. "I'm sure Team Rocket saw me and if I went back with you, you and my sisters could be in danger."

That was all true. So true Brock couldn't argue his friend's point. Yet, he felt obligated to ensure Misty's safety whether she was spotted or not. As a close friend he knew perfectly well that she could take care of herself, and that she disliked being overly doted upon. But as an honest to goodness friend, he still couldn't leave her alone without showing a glimmer of concern.

"But will you be safe with them?" he asked again, setting aside the fact that she might get upset with his worrying.

To Brock's surprise, though, Misty didn't. Instead, she fell silent, pondering over a proper response. She had to consider all factors. As she had reminded herself several times during that very day, she hardly knew Jay and Drake. But on the other hand, Jay _did_ risk his life to save her. He didn't leave her to be caught and save his own hide. So his genuineness was arguably valid, and neither he nor Drake just tossed her out of the car when they at last left the city. No, they asked her if she was all right, apologized for the scary incident in its entirety, for their yelling and panicked nature...

Lost in her thoughts, Misty didn't even notice that Jay had checked her through the mirror hanging above the front window. His icy eyes softened into something fatherly, but flashed away as he focused back on the road.

Misty smiled. "Yeah," she breathed, confident in her decision. "I think so. I'll call you later, Brock. I _promise_," she huffed, but still smiling. "Just get some rest. 'Kay, bye."

After hanging up, Misty settled her phone back in her purse. Then, she breathed out a long soft breath. Crazy couldn't begin to describe her day, nor what was in store for her. And she wasn't the only one feeling a similar anxiety rush.

Drake too released a deep sigh and leaned his head against the headrest. He was still feeling the aftereffects of the adrenaline from earlier. "Do you have any idea where we're going?" he questioned, blue eyes peering at his older brother. "Or where we should go for that matter?"

Jay stared at the long road ahead. "Kind of. Vermillion is our next best bet. Unless _you'd_ prefer Lavender Town?" he threw in cheekily, getting in the one sarcastic laugh for the day.

Drake just snorted and rolled his eyes as he gazed out the window. Misty, on the other hand, generated a response that slipped from her tongue without much thought.

"God, no," she proclaimed, chortling faintly about the idea. "That place gives me the creeps."

"Then Vermillion it is," Jay decided unanimously. He wasn't scared of wandering into Lavender Town- but he didn't exactly call that place paradise or a town one would want to visit while on vacation.

Even with the lighthearted humor, the awkwardness had not completely lifted between the three. In particular, between Misty and Jay. He felt downright terrible for the mess up, for her to witness and be caught in the middle of a classic Team Rocket chase scene. That wasn't his intention at all. In fact, he and Drake were hoping that the teenagers would _never_ have to be a part of the danger. But with the way things were going- there wasn't much the master could do to remedy the situation.

Yet he tried anyway. "Listen- Misty?" Jay called, earning the attention of sea-green eyes through the reflection of the mirror. "I believe, like you said, it would be dangerous for you to go back to Brock. I'm just- so sorry. Sorry it had to go down this way. And...I don't want you to be scared. "

Another tiny smile bloomed on Misty's lips. Jay looked apologetic. He sounded apologetic.

He cared. And because he cared, the man was reminding Misty of someone every time he spoke.

Security and confidence blossomed inside her once skeptical mind. She didn't want to be scared. She had no reason to be.

"I'm not," Misty answered, her strength not wavering. "Whatever it takes...we'll get you home, Mr. Ketchum."

* * *

A brilliant setting sun was falling upon Pallet's summer sky.

People retired back to their quaint dwellings, wild Pokémon retreated back to their safe shelters for the warm evening, and businesses were hanging closed signs up for the night. After how long the day felt and how tired Delia's feet and mind were, she was ready to throw in the towel. Planning the anniversary for the inn was as much work as she anticipated. Between Leo not comprehending how to make "cold soup" and a "warm slaw," then Michelle and Leah deciding to exclude his help altogether- it was a necessary nightmare that she saw coming. Though what Delia didn't anticipate was being hit from left to right with unsettling accusations and a handful of concerns. None in which she wanted to give a second thought about. However, Emily's words, a _certain_ word in particular, bothered the woman quite a bit…though she had no desire to entertain the idea...

Lucky for her, a bright face approached the front desk towards the last hour of her shift without a single complaint. Jovial to see her son's evenly tanned face with Pikachu forever on his shoulder, Delia felt much better about her walk home. For once, she had company on the jaunt, and someone to help her make a quick shopping trip to the local grocery store.

They were still in need of some dinner.

Bounding beside her, enjoying the slight breeze, Ash looked to his mother with a raised brow. "So how was work?" he asked casually, kicking a large pebble out of his way. "You haven't talked about it much."

Delia broke out of her quiet fixed stare. She hadn't realized her silent state. "Oh, it was fine," the mother waved, not wanting to be reminded of the days ups and downs. "How 'bout you? You said something about helping Grandpa?"

"Uh, yeah. Dani and I were helping him with a couple of things. As Dani liked to put it: 'acclimating Sweetie into herding.'"

Delia couldn't resist giggling a little; hearing her son use a word that was not usually in his vocabulary was new indeed. And he recognized this too, sporting a big, goofy grin as they wandered closer to the grocery store's front door.

"And how's that going?" she eventually inquired. Delia was aware of Ernest's constant talk of needing a new herding mutt for the Mareep and Flaaffy, but never did she think he'd recruit her Sweetie. The mere mention of her old companion made her think back on all those precious times as a kid. Perhaps she would go and visit the farm more often than just for dinner...

"It's a work in progress," Ash replied, considering all he fumbles the poor Leafeon was facing. He was, with the help of Dani and Ash, getting the hang of things. But as Dani reminded, a miracle wasn't going to occur overnight. Especially since Sweetie wasn't of the assertive type. He was more on the lines of- playful.

Letting his thoughts of the day strew across his mind, Ash recalled some news Delia needed to be informed of. He led his gaze back to his mom. "Oh, and by the way," he started, putting his hand behind his head, "Dani said her mom is going to come for the party, so put Ophelia down on the list."

"I will do that." At last, some good news of the day! It had been a while since Delia saw her older sister, let alone shared a decent phone call with her. The thought of that reminded her of something else... "Now that you say that," Delia started, looking down at her blush pink purse, "she could have been the one who tried calling me earlier." For a moment, the woman froze in her steps, nearly inches away from the front entrance of the store. Ash waited patiently besides his mother, watching her pull out her cellphone only for her to nod in confirmation. "Yep, it was her. I'll have to call her back," she said, tucking her cellphone back in her purse.

That was a distraction she definitely needed. When Ophelia was still living at home, before she moved out to attend college, Delia always appreciated the time she had with her. She was, after all, her big sister, and someone she could look up to and admire. While Delia bared a more gentle side to her, Ophelia was the bold one, and with that boldness her sister was able to give excellent advice. Advice she desperately needed at a time like this- or at least have _someone_ to listen to her vent that wasn't a biased busy-body and lived in Pallet. That was always a plus.

Soon after, the mother and son duo made their way into the grocery store. It was rather quiet, with only two cashiers at the front and hardly anyone searching the few shelves. A radio softly played eighties music overhead, the dominant noise in the little business.

Eventually, Delia turned her attention to her son with tired eyes after reaching for a grocery basket. "So I'm thinking we should have something simple for dinner. I'm sorry Ash; I'm just too tired to cook."

"That's okay," Ash quickly assured. He never expected his mom to prepare a lavish meal every night, and quite frankly, he was content with something simple too. "Can I get pizza?" he wasn't hesitant to ask, and added in a dessert suggestion for good measure with a meek smile. "And maybe even ice cream?"

"I ask for at least a vegetarian, and then a kind you like," she agreed wittily, smiling at his subtly begging eyes. "And as for the ice cream, something with chocolate."

Ash's smile grew. "All right. Vegetarian and pepperoni pineapple it is! And I'll surprise you with the ice cream," he added, turning on his heels.

Delia grinned softly back as her son began to stroll down an aisle. "Okay."

While Ash was busy fetching their frozen delights for the evening, Delia had her own selected items to pick up. Leisurely, she perused a couple of aisles, grabbing odds and ends. With Ash home, Delia finally saw how much faster certain items were diminished. After all, she wasn't the only person in the house now. Things such as dish soap, laundry detergent, dryer sheets, and Ash's still to this day favorite cold cereal of all time, _Lucky Abra, _were tossed into the small red painted basket she grabbed earlier. In a sense, it was nice to buy these essential items earlier than she usually would. Seeing someone was _finally_ living with her again. And she had missed Ash terribly; however, she couldn't have been more than happy for him in regards to his dream- but still, why did it feel like a part of her world was so empty?

Like there was a void that had never fully closed no matter how hard she tried to accept it.

Shaking off the confusing feelings that returned persistently, Delia traveled to the checkout. There were only two stations open, though that wasn't much considering there were only three checkers in total. One on the left was under control by a young man who was half-asleep and the other was by a wide awake Greta who was occupied as she flipped through some kind of dirty magazine with a shirtless guy plastered on the front of it. As much as she preferred not to be rung up by Greta, waking the other checker up wasn't something she was neither in the mood to do nor felt inclined to do so.

So suppressing her pride, Delia marched over to Greta's checkout, baring a faint smile as she began to lay out her items on the counter.

The presence of Delia caught the old woman's attention from the corner of her eye. "Is this all?" Greta asked, setting down her magazine.

"Oh no," replied Delia, rummaging through her purse for her floral patterned wallet. "Ash is coming with pizza and ice cream."

"Junk food splurge I see?" she continued to inquire with a half-smile.

"Just for tonight."

As the beeping of the checked items popped up on the screen with their final prices, Delia's eyes wandered off elsewhere. Waiting patiently, she drew her focus to the collection of magazines and paperback books planted in a rack above the checkout counter. All varied in types for a certain audience: some being life/health magazines, celebrity gossip, Pokémon related ones, and Delia's utmost favorite, magazines that were filled with nothing but recipes. Even though she had more than enough recipes on everything under the moon, she couldn't resist the temptation of buying another one. However, at the start of her fingers reaching for the magazine that had a lovely chocolate cake with a rum ganache decorated in various fruits, the tips of her fingers lingered for something else.

A handful of copies sat directly next to the food-filled magazine. A handful of copies that were printed as _romance_ novels. Realizing what she was about to do, Delia bit down on her lip and drew her hand back. The book, in simple words, had the appearance of a typical romance novel cover with God knows how many rehashed cliché lines and romantically sweeping scenes. But for some reason, she was still drawn to it.

She felt silly for wanting to grab it, considering it had been a good few years since she bought one. At least, since Ash left on his journey. And then soon after, she sold a few of her least favorite copies at a sale the town held. Letting others know she owned books of passion made her almost _not_ want to sell them, but in the end Delia accepted the possible consequences and was finally rid of them. She was lucky in her case that Annie purchased a good few of them and that the rest were donated to charity. But there were still some she held onto, tucked away in the bottom drawer of her nightstand.

This book she was subconsciously drawn to had a man dressed in black Renaissance clothing, something a young brave knight or mercenary would wear as he stood proudly on a rocky cliff. Leaning against his chest, with her own chest exposing a little too much cleavage, was a young maiden dressed in all white. Her long, chocolate curly locks flowed with the wind and a bright, flower-weaved halo lay perfectly against her beautiful tresses of hair. They were gazing off at the sea, though as to what they were exactly looking at only God or the author would know, and whether the cover even had any relevance to the contents of the book was another guess altogether. Still, with the darkening winter sky and the eloquently drawn detail of the characters- it was an appealing cover. _The Temptation of The Icy Wind_ it was titled, and with such a name made it all the more alluring to take a peek at. If anything, she could simply entertain her wondering thoughts. It wouldn't hurt to at least _read_ the back to see what it was about, to suffice her curious mind...

Oh, who was she kidding? Desperate, pathetic, maybe even_ the_ word Emily described her as being, was written all over this novel if Delia dared to touch it. But she couldn't help herself. Feeling foolish or not, it was crying for her fingertips. Since her high school years, Delia always savored a good romantic drama, but once she was married it seemed her desire to read an enticing melodrama vanished... Not a single one of those books was close to real life, filled with romanticized fantasies of suave and courageous men plenty of young girls dreamed would come true, and once happily married, Delia felt so stupid for even liking them. It had been so long since she thoroughly read one of those books. She hadn't dared to pick one up again since he initially left- one of her many forms of comfort...

"You lonely, too?"

So entranced in her thoughts, Delia wasn't prepared for the provocation she caused as she finally reached for the glamorized novel.

Then with darkening cheeks, the woman's eyes flashed up. God, even Greta with the missing teeth could tell.

* * *

Towards the back of the store, Ash settled on the perfect ice cream for the evening: chocolate with peanut butter chunks. He knew how much his mom adored this kind, and to be honest, he did too. He supposed it was a little mother/son thing they shared, and Ash knew without even mentioning as to why he picked that specific kind, Delia would understand his choosing.

Walking away from the freezer full of frozen sweets, Ash's grip slipped one of the frozen pizzas. And so in the process of catching it, he accidentally ran into the presence of another person grabbing some last-minute items for the night. Crashing into the individual, Ash completely lost his grip on the pizzas, which crashed to the floor as Pikachu tried to balance on his shoulder. Though as Ash haphazardly caught the container of ice cream, he saw his dinner wasn't the only thing that tumbled to the ground. A bag of potato chips, a box of popcorn, and a small bottle of what appeared to be green tea fell as well. Thankfully, the drink had not spilled its contents over the tiles, but knowing his lack of attention was the cause of the downfall of someone else's food made Ash's guilt all the more greater.

"Oh, I'm sorry!" he said earnestly, looking to the individual before him. He had hoped he hadn't caused any harm. "Are you okay?"

Slowly, brown eyes shielded by sleek rectangular blue eyeglasses gleamed up at him. Strands of wavy emerald hair graced the face of a teenage girl, in which she pushed back with a slight wince. "I'm fine," she declared, trying to compose herself. She was preoccupied on her cellphone, not realizing someone else was coming from the opposite direction. Her own fault, she thought entirely, since she was the one entranced with texting to pay any attention to her whereabouts.

So when she was finally coming around, the girl was ready to pick up her scattered items. That is, till the boy whom she ran into was already on top of the job.

Witnessing this made her release a tiny smile. "Um, thank you."

Ash looked up at her briefly, handing her the bag of chips first. "No problem. It's the least I could do. And I'm really sorry," he apologized again, still feeling terrible for the entire accident.

But she dismissed his apology. "It's all right, really," she assured genuinely, taking the box of popcorn from his grasp. Pikachu even handed the bottle of tea off to her, which she took just as gently. "I wasn't the one paying attention-"

Then, she stopped for a moment. As Ash rose, she caught a good glimpse of his entire face. She recognized him.

"Say," the girl started awkwardly with a sheepish grin, "I'm sorry if this sounds weird, but are you Ash?"

Ash arched an eyebrow. How did she know his name? He had never seen her before. He assumed that maybe she was an old classmate he had forgotten about. But it didn't look that way...

"Yeah, that's me," he answered, slightly on edge.

His answer only made her smile bloom between her cherry-colored glossed lips. "Well, Gary did not give enough credit," she said with a hint of playfulness. "You are definitely as tall as him and just as toned."

Now both his brows rose. "Excuse me?"

Gary? How did he know this girl? And was this some kind of joke-

"Sorry," the girl clarified quickly, seeing the boy was rather perplexed. "I'm Harper. Gary's girlfriend."

From there, it finally dawned on him.

Ash snapped his fingers, catching on. "Oh, Harper! Yeah, I heard about you. I mean, my grandparents told me about you," he corrected himself, feeling stupid. "Gary _and_ my grandparents-"

"I assumed," Harper cut him off, still wearing a grin.

This was...weird. Not that Gary's girlfriend seemed unapproachable. Rather, she seemed a little too friendly, too even-tempered and polite... Ash was conflicted. Gary, in his own right, had matured greatly with age and experience. That much Ash had to admit. Their senseless bickering and jealousy morphed into what seemed like a mutual respect without becoming best friends over night. But still, even if Ash's former rival had changed for the better- why was it still so odd to him that his supposed girlfriend appeared too genuine and upbeat? Why was he expecting another personality entirely?

Ash adjusted the bill of his cap, a small streak of red gleaming over his cheeks. He didn't know what to say to her in this awkward silence.

"Well um, I'm Ash- but uh, you already know that..."

Harper just kept on smiling as she watched Ash rub the back of his head. She didn't mind his nervousness. "It's okay." Instead, her attention was fixed on the yellow mouse perched on Ash's shoulder. She had seen plenty of Pikachu before, but never one with such a shiny coat and chipper personality. He was, without a doubt, absolutely adorable.

"Aww, and who's this lil' guy?" Harper cooed, her eyes lingering to the bubbly Pikachu.

Ash too averted his attention to his long-eared friend, his eyes looking upward. "This is Pikachu. He was my first Pokémon. We've been glued at the- well, I should say _shoulder_ ever since!" he corrected not so wittily, but laughed at his word choice nonetheless.

Harper chortled softly at Ash's not so very original, but charming claim. "He's so cute!" she soon exclaimed afterwards, admiring the bright colored cheeks the mouse bared. Then, she looked to him with eager brown eyes. "Can I pet him? If it's okay, that is."

"Sure," Ash shrugged. "He won't mind."

Pikachu, at one point, was not very keen on the idea of strangers petting him at liberty. But as he aged and felt more secure with his master's trust, the mouse saw no danger if his trainer did not sense any. Besides, he wasn't sensing any negative vibes from the green-haired girl anyway.

Delicately, with light blue painted fingernails, Harper gently scratched Pikachu behind his left ear in which he enjoyed throughout with every "chu" flying from his petite mouth. "You like that, don't you sweetie?" the girl cooed.

The mouse sighed again after hearing her sweets words. Just by how friendly Pikachu was alone, Harper was already very impressed by Ash's skills as a trainer. He was so even-tempered, so clean, and so content that not a moment of discomfort was displayed. In just that instant, Pikachu reminded her of how docile her boyfriend's Umbreon was. And speaking of her boyfriend...

Eventually, Harper's hand left Pikachu's furry tresses and her eyes glanced back to Ash. "So are you staying home for the summer like Gary too, Ash?" she inquired. She figured it was best to get to know Ash now. After hearing talk about him from other townsfolk, he deserved a fair shake.

"Yeah," the teenage boy nodded. "My mom owns the inn here, and she's got this huge celebration in honor of its anniversary coming up so I'm helping out."

Harper's green eyes grew. "Wow, an inn? Gary might have mentioned your mom owned a business. Is it that one with the lovely garden in the front? With the shabby-chic vibe?" she added, trying to remember correctly.

Ash wasn't sure what "shabby-chic" exactly meant (though he had heard it before), but agreed to her claim nonetheless. His mother's inn was the only hotel/restaurant in all of Pallet Town after all.

"Yeah, that's it. The _Butterfree Inn_."

"Cool! Well from what I've seen the place looks great. Maybe Gary and I will have to stop by some time."

Stop by sometime? Ash supposed that would be all right. Though it wasn't as if Gary regularly visited the inn. He had hardly been there in the first place. Then again, Ash had to consider other reasons why he might. Gary did have a girlfriend now, and probably had the time and energy to take her out on dates. Make them explicitly special with all the financing he had. It wouldn't surprise Ash if his old rival was somehow a "charmer" with girls, now using his confidence and ego to attract romantic attention.

"We serve lunch for everyone on all weekdays," Ash clarified; he was open to the idea regardless of his pondering thoughts.

"Thanks for telling me. We will definitely have to try the food out."

"Feel free to."

There was another pause. It was their first meet and greet after all. The anticipation of awkwardness floating through the air was to be expected. Not that Ash felt Harper was strange or too cocky to chat with. No, he felt neutral about her. She was definitely nice. And maybe that's why he felt so stumped about the relationship's existence...

"Well, I better get back to the house," Harper sooner than later declared, pushing her glasses up. "Gary's mom is making dinner. It was nice meeting you, Ash."

"Nice meeting you too, Harper."

Ash waved back at the girl as she gave him one last smile before turning. Like Emily and Richard had claimed, Harper seemed very much amiable. And Ash was certain Annie and Chad Oak were thrilled to have her as their son's girlfriend. But as to _how_ that happened-

Ash sighed. Maybe he was just being too narrow-minded. Too focused on the arrogant Gary Oak he _once_ knew and severely detested.

Once parting ways, Ash scurried down an aisle and located his mom at the checkout. He was just in time, for Greta had scanned the last item Delia decided to buy. So speedily, Ash laid the remaining purchases on the counter. Seeing the choices for herself, Delia grinned and expected nothing else. She was glad to a have quart of chocolate peanut butter ice cream. It would definitely be a real treat with her new book to read tonight.

As Greta continued to ring up the last remaining items, Ash's lingering eyes landed on Harper unintentionally, who thankfully did not have to wake up the cashier in order for her items to be checked out. Though, he was yawning repeatedly as each purchase was swiped. In due time, Harper eventually caught sight of Ash as well and gave one harmless wave before paying the bill. Ash waved back in return, which was all observed by a befuddled Delia as she pulled out some dollar bills.

"Who's that, honey?" the mother soon asked casually. She didn't recognize the girl as a friend of her son's or someone who lived in town for that matter.

Ash glanced to his mom. "Gary's girlfriend."

Delia's eyes widened. Then, she looked back to the no longer mystery girl. "Oh. Well, she seems nice," she commented, an assumption made only by the kind wave and smile she gave.

"Yeah, she is," he nodded in agreement.

Either oblivious or not interested in the Harper talk only because she already knew plenty of dirt on the girl, Greta packed the romance novel in a small bag. From there, she grinned up at the woman. "I'm glad you bought this novel, Delia," said Greta, handing the bag to her. "It's a good one. There's a really vivid scene between the two main characters on this ship and-"

"Okay, thanks for the heads-up, Greta!" Delia's swift cutting her off when grabbing the bag wasn't done so skillfully, nevertheless the mother could tell where the old lady's rehashing of events was going. And preferably Delia didn't want any spoilers- but now insinuating what _might_ be in the book made her feel all the more self-conscious to read it... That and she definitely did not want Ash hearing_ any_ talk of intimate contact.

Ignoring Delia's nervous state, Greta simply shrugged and handed the woman the receipt. "Have a good evening."

"You too."

With goodies in tow, Ash and his mother carried all their groceries out of the establishment and at last headed for home. But as they meandered down the quiet dirt road, a few wonders refused to leave Ash's mind for the evening. For one, how in the world did Gary exactly catch a girl like Harper? More than anything, had he missed so much to fully recognize Gary had indeed grown up? Maybe even more than him? And two, what book did his mom buy and what supposed 'scene' was Greta so eager to spoil for Delia?

Frowning from all the questions circulating in his head, Ash thought he could get at least one answer for the night. "So what was Greta talking about, Mom? Something about a vivid scene?"

Instantly, the mother bit her lip. Truthfully, a part of Delia didn't want to know what the old woman was talking about. And if it was what she was assuming the scene was about, then Delia had no desire to engage in such a conversation with Ash. Nor did he need to know she had bought another romance novel...

A slip of a nervous smile grew from Delia's lips. "Oh, it's nothing, Ash."

* * *

**A/N:**

Will Delia read the novel? You'll have to wait till chapter 8! This is really going to be the start for a lot of things. For Jay and the other's journey back to Pallet, to all the local drama Delia and Ash are facing, to Prof. Oak and Tracey's aiding research, to Jessie and James's tricks, to Butch and Cassidy's persistence... Then of course, let's not forget the return of Giovanni! Eek! :O It's all building up to one epic climax. I do think however, given the pace of the story and how in depth it is for all the characters, I have a feeling this will be around 25 chapters- that's right. 25 CHAPTERS. Originally I planned for just 20, but seeing how this is all panning out... I'm gonna need more chapters to spread everything out. XD I thought _Silently Broken_ was my big magnum opus but I guess _Sunlight's Return_ is going to top it in regards to chapters!

So please be patient with me. I am dedicated to finishing this story, whether it's long or short. I have school to contend with, but during the summer I hope to post more regularly. One way or another, IT WILL BE COMPLETED EVENTUALLY. I can say though that chapter 8 is already in the editing process... so be on the look out for that either this month or the next.

Thank you all for reading and for those who have reviewed previous chapters! It means a lot. More than I can express. And of course, reviews are greatly appreciated! :)


	8. Obscure Emotions

**DISCLAIMER: **_Pokémon_ belongs to Satoshi Tajiri. My oc's belongs to me.

* * *

**Sunlight's Return**

**Chapter 8**

_Obscure Emotions_

The moon's haunting light was glowing down on Pallet.

After satisfying himself with a few slices of pizza, Ash ventured upstairs for the evening. Once changing into his pajamas, he made plans for a mindless hour spent on video games and giving Pikachu a good belly-rub before calling it a night. But first, he found it soothing to open his window a crack for a fresh scent of summer air, the cool gust chilling his slightly stuffy room. Actually, he couldn't help but open it most of the way, his palms leaning against the windowsill as he took in the smell of blooming flowers, freshly mowed grass, and the overall fragrance only summer could produce.

Also entranced by nature's gifts was Pikachu, who joined his master by jumping on his shoulder. His petite nose sniffed the air continuously, releasing a satisfied "chu" sound as he was pacified by the night's air.

"You like fresh air, too, don't ya, buddy?" Ash asked his beloved mouse, beaming up at him with a tired but warm smile.

"Pika," the yellow mouse agreed, his eyes closing as he took in another deep breath.

The atmosphere was, to say the least, mollifying after a long and somewhat stressful day. Between willingly helping his grandpa and Dani on the farm, to running into Gary's girlfriend and still attempting to wrap his head around that idea... Ash needed the summer air to ease his thoughts. However, one thought still could not fully leave his mind. He had given Brock and Misty all day to call or text back and neither one had. It was most likely that they were caught up with their own agendas, yet Ash couldn't help but worry in the back of his mind. Dread that they might have been avoiding his call... But his old companions weren't like that. No, he was probably reading into things again. His tired mind needed rest or a distraction for him to fully reassess the situation. And Ash was about to do that. However, he and Pikachu's quiet moment of enjoying summer's relaxing breeze was suddenly cut short. Buzzing on Ash's tabletop was his phone, repeatedly going off for his attention.

Swiveling steadily on his feet, Ash lowered the window down to a crack and waltzed over to his phone. "Hello?" he answered, resisting a yawn.

"Hey, Ash. Sorry it took me a while to get back to you."

Immediately Ash's expression brightened, stretching his one free arm up with a growing smile. Now he felt silly for even assuming the worst. "No problem," he trainer responded, happy to hear the voice of one of his dearest friends. "So, how you've been, Brocko?"

"Pretty good," the older trainer answered, his tone carrying on casually. "I'm thankful finals are over. And you and Pikachu?"

Ash threw a quick side-glance at his buddy, then scratched him underneath his chin. "We're doin' great. He's happy to be home with a warm bed and Mom's cooking. And as for me...just got a lot on my mind, I guess," he summed up, his eyes gravitating back to the window.

"Hopefully nothing bad."

"Ah, nah," Ash waved plainly. "Just training and...stuff."

That was the easiest way to put it with everything going on.

"I see. Well, I wanted to let you know that I am definitely coming to visit if your offer still stands."

"Of course it does!" Ash exclaimed enthusiastically, crashing onto the bottom bunk of his bed. "That's awesome, Brock."

He couldn't begin to describe how thrilled he was to hear confirmation on Brock's end. They hadn't seen each other face-to-face for so long that this visit needed to happen. And neither one of them could disagree. Just a couple of guys hanging out, talking about Pokémon, their favorite topics, going for a hike, _maybe_ even discussing the subject of girls...

"Glad to hear so," Ash's older friend chortled. "I probably should be there in a few days. A week at tops."

"That's fine. Are you home right now?"

For the first time that evening, Brock suddenly faltered.

"Uh, actually I'm in Fuchsia...with Misty."

Instantly, Ash's eyebrows lowered, a perplexed look crossing his face. "Oh. So you're with Mist?" he repeated, his curious mind wondering why.

"Yeah. She invited me to spend a couple of weeks with her on her sisters' tour. The tour's actually over so it was perfect timing when you called," Brock explained, his voice lightening with every word. "I'll probably just take the ferry from here to get to Pallet sooner than driving_ all_ the way back."

During the conversation, Brock had hoped he didn't sound suspicious or strange in any way. He feared he'd falter at first with the mention of Misty, trying to scrounge up some kind of believable truth to her whereabouts. She was in Fuchsia- earlier that morning that is, so it wasn't a complete lie. And she _had_ invited him to simply catch up and soak up some sun during her vacation time. Nothing more. Still, Brock felt bad for twisting the truth, and tried to cover up whatever guilt showed through his voice with the discussion of his arrival.

And yet, Ash persisted about their favorite redhead.

"Um, all right. So is Misty coming with you?" he asked, anxious for an answer.

Brock could sense the interest in their friend's decision in Ash's voice, and felt all the more awkward about responding. He took only a few seconds to think of a logical answer that would suffice. "That I'm not sure," the Pokémon doctor-in-training confessed. "She um... I know she mentioned she had to get back to the gym. But she told me she'd call you back and let you know for sure," he affirmed.

"Is she there right now?" Ash persisted again, innocently of course.

"Uh," Brock's voice carried on awkwardly once more, biting down on his lip. He obviously couldn't _reveal_ to Ash where Misty really was and thankfully the soft snores he heard from Daisy in her section of the trailer provided him with a semi-truthful fib. "She's actually asleep," he at last replied. "But she _will_ call you, Ash. I'll remind her."

Soaking it all in, Ash nodded, his thoughts wandering off to another worrisome place. Still, he tried to mask it in his voice. "Don't worry about it. I just appreciate you calling."

"Sure thing. Well," Brock abruptly started, his words jumbling with a loud yawn, "I better hit the sack here too. It's gettin' awfully late."

Ash nodded again in agreement, chocolate eyes trailing away again. "Yeah, I need to, too."

"All right, talk to ya later, man."

"'Night Brock."

As he hung up his cellphone, Ash lazily tossed it onto his bed. From there, he took in a deep breath and tried to force a smile as he drew his attention to Pikachu. It was rather nerve-wracking to think his less than ideal call to Misty had flubbed up, that he had utterly embarrassed himself to the point where she felt uncomfortable to call back. But at least Brock confirmed his arrival. And that was enough to suffice Ash's troubling thoughts for the time being.

* * *

Concluding the evening with a soothing shower, a slipping on of a loose summer nightgown, and a thorough scrubbing of teeth, Delia skittered to her bedroom.

The novel she had been shamefully anxious to dive into was settled on top of her bed, still wrapped in its small paper bag. Shutting the door behind her with a quiet click, Delia journeyed to her bedside and reached for the bag. From there, she made herself comfortable, pulling back the light summer comforter and thin sheet for her to delicately crawl into. Then, nestled in her downy mattress and with a fluffy pillow supporting her back, Delia at last pulled the awaiting object out of its flimsy holder. She had felt a tad embarrassed to have put it on the counter for purchase and then to bring it home without wishing for Ash's eyes to fall upon it. It was no secret to Delia's son that she savored a good melodrama, being actually read or simply watched. It was just the idea of Ash seeing her _buy_ one after such a long time, being submersed in its contents... It was private. Complicated too. Several feelings stirred within her as she glanced at the cover again, but Delia was simply too enthralled to read something- to escape her worries.

She scooted herself upward, tucking her knees into her chest as she flipped the book to the first page. It read:_ Chapter One:_ _At First Glance, _already starting off with a typical title with an ever predictable following. Still, it was satisfying to read away and escape her worries with a fantasy only real in pages. In no time at all, in fact, she was through at least the first seven chapters and was becoming more and more engrossed every time she flipped another page. Every time the clock chimed later into the evening. So many twists and turns already in the beginning of the novel! And several heart-pounding scenes. Already the rough, stoic hero in black had rescued the fair maiden from a rugged group of thieves who wished to infiltrate her father's research lab filled with secrets on grass Pokémon's various makeup and capabilities. There was the predictable tearing of his shirt, exposing just enough skin from the chest to make most readers swoon from their imagination alone. Reading the description of the showing skin caused Delia's cheeks to flush; still she remained ever so intrigued to find out what was to happen next. Her heart raced, her eyes drawing closer to the print as she went on reading, the suspense building with every word.

_With a damp cloth torn from her very own scarf, the young maiden Farah tended to the mysterious man's wound. The mercenary who she called her savor and now knew by his real name: Willard. Though Willard's chest suffered a minor abrasion, the upper section of his left arm earned a fairly decent-sized gash, needing something thick to drink the pouring blood away. Gently, Farah pressed the ripped piece of her garment close to his muscle tendon, her eyes watching it seize up and down as the rich liquid began to coagulate. Then, she felt a gaze upon her presence, staring down at her with somber eyes yet bearing a shimmer of thankfulness. Her heart skipped a beat. Soft pants flew from the mercenary's mouth as he resisted the urge to gasp from the pain. He had felt agony many a time before, but he had never felt such comforted displeasure with an angel by his side. Someone to take care of him in his fatal state. He was silently grateful for Farah's effort and resourcefulness and that she pursued him even when he warned her to stay away. It seemed no matter what the circumstances, they always found a way to back to each other. Always savoring the other's presence._

_As Willard's eyes could no longer find a distraction from the kind maiden's virtue, he drew closer to her, his head dipping towards the curly locks of her hair. He sniffed the scent of honeysuckles from her full tresses, truly recognizing her as the keeper of all Mother Earth. Her name so befittingly meaning beauty spoke not only of her fragile features but of her genuinely warm heart. No one had ever treated him so kindly, with such a loving touch to boot. Many women in his journey to self-discovery passed his way but never in his wildest dreams did he think she'd be real. Never did Willard think that the view of her elegant neck and advertised cleavage would be so tempting to taste with a single glance. Her so pure presence was driving him mad, wondering endlessly why the gods above would bless him with such a beautiful creature. It was cruelty, wondering what she thought of him, wondering how she'd react to his touch- Within a flash the pain seemed to cease, and Willard's natural instincts seized full control. _

_Steadily, his lips traveled down to Farah's neck, his dry mouth gracefully kissing her long chocolate locks as if searching for her flesh. While the impulsive action was shocking, Farah released a small gasp but reciprocated Willard's actions nonetheless. She had never felt so alive before. Never knew the blissful feelings a man could give to a woman, and in return, she wished to give him. He had saved her, opened up to her, and now he was flaunting his affections outwardly. Soon after the reality of the action sunk in, Farah's free hand traveled up to his revealed chest, fingers lightly sliding across the smooth surface of his pale-toned flesh. He felt so incredibly intoxicating, his hot breath and grabbing of hands making her ache for something more, something real and forever existent-_

"Mom?"

As if the beckoning of her attention and the sudden knock at the door snapped her out of her stunned daze, Delia nearly jumped out of her seat on the bed and awkwardly fumbled with her provocative romance novel. She felt her face warm to the touch as her fuzzy gaze met the chocolate eyes of her son. She bore a very sheepish grin as he peeked around the corner.

"C-come in!" she permitted, setting the book to the side casually. Or, at least, hoping her actions appeared casual.

Without hesitation, Ash strolled in happily, dressed in a plain red t-shirt and matching plaid pajama bottoms. He sat on the edge of the bed with a soft bounce, looking to his mother with a friendly smile. Then, he noticed the book next to her. "Hey, whatcha ya reading?" he asked, leaning a hand back on the mattress lazily.

Delia blinked back at Ash, guilty eyes subtly looking to the novel. "Oh, nothing," she replied quietly.

"I'm sorry if I was interrupting you," her son started, noticing by the bookmark how far his mom was into the novel, "but I wanted to let you know Brock will be coming to visit."

"Oh?" inquired Delia, raising a brow. "When?"

"Uh, he said he'd be here in a few days, give or take. But I don't know about Misty yet."

At the confession of Misty's less than confirmation of her arrival, Delia picked up a saddened glimmer in her son's eyes. Ash's head had dropped slightly, his smile slipping into a soft frown with a darkening of eyes. He was clearly upset by this, making Delia wonder if Ash's feelings consisted of more than wanting to see a good friend. And if that was the case, Delia's motherly heart circulated with mixed feelings. It was never easy. To- _like_ some and hope they'd like you back. Misty was, to Delia's knowledge, Ash's first crush, which was relieving to know yet scary for a mother at the same time. The growing gym leader was a good and kind person in Delia's eyes and without any argument never was there a reason as to why Misty and her son shouldn't date. However, what was in question was if Misty even_ liked_ Ash that way to begin with. And the anxiously waiting for an answer was something not easy to deal with on a teenager's already anxious mind.

Delia could sympathize with Ash, and be subtly supportive. After all, she could have been reading into things. And, well, she didn't like the concept of being one of those mothers getting in the middle and preventing her child's growth. Especially when it came to young love.

"Well, I'm sure she'll get back to you soon," Delia soon said, offering an encouraging smile.

Ash nodded back in agreement, though his eyes were still cast down. "Yeah..." Staring silently at the comforter led to the trailing of his eyes elsewhere, finally catching a decent glimpse of the book his mom was reading. Right away, Ash noticed a man on the cover with a woman clinging to his side, and the title alone made him want to gag. Maybe he didn't mind the idea of having a girlfriend, but he still couldn't indulge in a book riddled with mushy lines, too many kisses, and sweeping scenes under sunsets.

Chocolate eyes flashed back up at Delia, a peculiar look stretching across his face. And Delia held her breath.

"Uh, Mom?" he started slowly. "Are you reading a _romance_ novel?-"

"No! I mean!- yes," she eventually sighed, her eyes closing with a lowering of her head.

Ash watched his mother's posture drop, her face turning a faint shade of pink as she nervously bit her lip. It was no secret that Ash knew about his mom's love for romance novels and soap operas, but since he left on his journey, she had given up those silly forms of entertainment. Yet those things were more to Delia than something to pass the time. He had assumed as he aged that they were tools of comfort to lessen the pain of the void in her life. Though it was nothing more than a distraction, Ash didn't want to Delia to feel embarrassed by it, and casually shrugged the sappy content off as nothing more than a popular genre.

Letting a small reassuring smile escape, Ash caught his mother's attention. "It's okay," he started plainly. "I know you like those. I'm just surprised 'cause I haven't seen you touch one in so long. Then again, I haven't been staying home long enough, have I?" he added, rubbing the back of his head with a weak chuckle.

Immediately, Delia's brows lowered. "Oh, Ash. Please don't feel bad. It's just a silly book I'm reading. Just for fun!" she insisted with a light expression. "Reading- helps me unwind and...get a lot of stressful things off my mind."

Her chestnut eyes wandered off to the side, her smile shrinking ever so rapidly. Ash nodded back sympathetically, catching on to his mother's woes. He assumed quickly that those happily ever after novels had something to do with his absent father, and couldn't blame Delia for the way she chose to cope. Thinking it through, Ash supposed it was better than her always bottling everything up, denying her feelings, for it was what she used to do when he was younger. Still, wasn't this also a form of keeping those saddened emotions to herself? And why so suddenly was Delia itching for a distraction? Was something coming up that Ash was unaware of?

A nod was produced, though that didn't mean Ash wasn't through speculating. Or doubting any of his assumptions. "I understand. But Mom... I don't want you to feel lonely, because I know with me not around often and Dad gone I just- I just worry about you sometimes," the trainer confessed, finding it difficult to communicate without stumbling over his words. "Because I know- how much you miss him. And it's not fair to you 'cause you don't deserve to be lonely."

His tone spoke of such deep concern it made Delia's heart melt. Ash had proven himself as being the caring boy she had raised, and still to this day, bore sheer consideration for Delia's single parent state. Yet, she didn't want his thoughts to consist of her frets and personal struggles. They were a separate thing for her to handle, and all Delia wished was for her teenage son to still be a kid while he could. Before adulthood sincerely set in.

A pause erupted, and Delia gradually leaned and placed a motherly hand over her son's. "You don't need to worry about me, honey," she insisted evenly, capturing his gaze. "I'm okay. But I appreciate your concern nonetheless. You need to go live your dream. I wouldn't want anything to hold you back. _Especially_ me. And as for your father... Well, each day gets a little bit easier."

Ash nodded once more steadily. Each day when he woke the aches lessened, and as each year had gone by the discussion of Jay had occurred more often. The vulnerability dissipating. But the memories of what the Ketchum family once had, what destroyed their life in the quiet valley...that never had faded.

"Okay," he swallowed. "If you say so. But- where do you think Dad is, anyway, Mom?"

The flashing up in Ash's eyes, the desperate wanting to know the truth was something Delia couldn't sooth or answer as if a crystal ball sat in front of her. And that left her with great discomfort.

"...I don't know," she at last answered, her eyes flickering with similar somberness. "But wherever your father is...I hope he's safe."

* * *

Sunlight shined with a piercing glimmer into the reflection of Misty's window.

Crinkled eyelids fluttered, slowly opening to find herself in a less than comfortable position. She had fallen asleep in the car. They all had. Jay sitting in the passenger's seat and Drake on the driver's side. The two men had been taking turns driving, stopped to eat once and pumped gas once during the long ride to Vermilion. Immediately with fuzzy eyes, Misty wondered if they had actually arrived at their desired location. A parking lot the trainers were stationed in, and as Misty maneuvered her gaze about, she discovered a familiar looking building standing right out the front car window. Apparently, Drake must have parked by Vermillion's Pokémon Center and allowed sleep to consume him. At least, she figured it was Vermillion's Center after traveling on the road all day.

Wherever the trainers were, it was far away from Fuchsia. That was Misty's hope. She still could feel the faint exhilaration from the unexpected car chase. Twisting about, her body suffered slight aches from the lack of an adequate stretch and walk during the long drive throughout the night. Just what had she got herself mixed up in? And what in the world was their next step going to be? Soft snores seeped from the mouths of both men, Drake's head hanging directly against the headrest of his seat, while Jay laid his cheek against his hand, his elbow perched on the slight ledge of his car door. They were completely zonked, unaware that Misty was in the midst of waking up or that the sun's rays grew stronger with light and heat.

No longer able to sit there and wait for an eternity, Misty took the liberty of gently waking the men up. "Uh, Drake?... Drake?" she poked harmlessly, hoping the soft pricking of her finger against his muscular shoulder would stir the islander awake.

But seeing that her less than forceful morning greeting did no good, Misty sighed, and turned her attention to Ash's father. He looked so peaceful sleeping. Relaxed. Not so on guard and shifty...distant. His face was softened in a dreamy state, a face rarely shown to Misty's eyes in the brief time she had known him. To her, he was still a mystery, a puzzle to put together to fully understand. While she was learning to trust him, to recognize how decent of a man she was- Misty still held her reservations about him.

"Mr. Ketchum?" Misty soon called, gently shaking his firm shoulder. When seeing she was getting the same result as waking Drake up, she tried again a bit more forcefully. Still, snores kept on coming.

With a huff she slumped back in her seat, sea-green eyes diving for her untouched purse. Her Pokémon were still crammed inside their pokeballs, and were in need of a stretch as well and some nutrients. She supposed she'd give the men a few more minutes before she'd ultimately have to create some kind of loud awakening. Till then, the gym leader savored a moment to be fully awake and skimmed through her cellphone for any messages. It seemed none were sent, other than one from Brock _and_ her sisters who called earlier to check in on her. She figured they were worried for her safety, and would then have to ensure she was all right in a decent amount of time before full-blown panic erupted.

However, there was another phone call needed to be made. One that had already been put on hold for a day. Misty felt nervous as she scrolled through her contacts, unsure how the conversation would play out, how she was going to explain her absence. She didn't want to sound as if she was making a hundred excuses not to come and visit, but then again, she didn't want to be so discreet it appeared she was hiding something. Either way, it wasn't going to be easy. Sighing, Misty prayed he was already up, considering it would be rather strange to call him while his dad was awake in the car _with_ her.

It was ringing. It had rung twice and then, a voice answered.

"Hello?"

He sounded so different, not that Misty was unaware of the fact that when one aged their voice changed. It was just more…mature. But still bared a sweet tenor note. Much gentler than his father's thundering voice. Still, it was masculine and very much Ash. He sounded awake, upbeat as always. In this instance, however, hearing him speak through the crackling phone gave the redhead goosebumps.

Misty swallowed anxiously, a small smile escaping from her lips. "Hi, Ash. It's me," she announced, casting her eyes down on the car seat. She hoped her voice was enough to explain her identity and that she wasn't too loud that she'd accidentally awaken the two people in front of her. That would be a tad awkward. "How are you doing? With traveling back home and everything? How's Pikachu?"

She heard Ash pause for a moment. "Uh, good. Good, Mist. The trip was fine. Pikachu's well- Pikachu. How 'bout you?"

"Good. Really good," she assured, feeling sheepish the entire time. Feeling stupid for repeating the word "good." The looking down led to a nervous biting of the lip, and soon her eyes shifted upward. At Jay. "Um, so about me coming by-"

"You don't have to," Ash hurriedly interrupted. "I mean, it would be awesome if you could but it's not a big deal. But I don't want you to think you can't come, 'cause you're always welcome."

From what Misty could tell, her old friend seemed so...jumpy. He wasn't always great with words but his rambling and correcting himself were concerns to Misty. Something was off. Whether she had offended Ash or he was simply trying to be polite and not pushy about the get-together. That or something Brock had mentioned yesterday... But that was silly. Absolutely ludicrous. Ash never thought of her in that regard and she certainly had moved on since then. Didn't she? Or was Misty fooling herself on both respects?

Baring a smile, for his voice and word choice almost sounded...cute, Misty replied kindly, "I know, and thank you. But I don't think I can this time, Ash."

The big letdown was hinted in her voice, sounding once pleasant to now despondent. Ash fell quiet for a few seconds after that, the gym leader not knowing what he was thinking or what he'd say. Eventually, he replied.

"Oh... Uh, okay."

"It's just I've been away from the gym and I need to get back," the redhead quickly explained, hoping she didn't sound as if she was wishing to bail on him. Because in all honestly, Misty desperately wanted to travel to Pallet. To soak in that warm sun, to smell that fresh air, to be a quiet community with Brock and Ash by her side. Like the old times. The concept sounded like Heaven to her. But obviously- things were getting in the way. And it wasn't the gym.

"I'm so sorry, Ash," she apologized, genuinely saddened she couldn't come. "But sometime soon, okay? I promise."

The trainer's heart dropped. Ash felt mildly insulted, and at the same time daft for believing _she'd_ make time to come see him. Not with her new life and all... "Yeah," he at last said, trying to hide the bleakness in his voice. "Yeah, that's cool. So I'll talk to you later?"

"Yes," nodded Misty, making sure her answer was definite in her tone. "We'll talk more later."

"Okay. Um, I guess...bye then, Misty."

"Bye," she replied, her voice softening with a mixture of emotions. "Have a good day, Ash."

"You too."

And that was that.

Hanging up, Misty shoved her phone back to her purse, huffed, and crossed her arms. Why was she feeling so ashamed for letting Ash down? And why was she so unhappy that she couldn't see him sooner than she hoped? She had willingly swore to Ash's dad that she'd lend aid in any way she could. That was something Misty wasn't going to back out on. But the timing of it all- Misty wanted to curse. It was a perfect opportunity to help Jay out and a chance to see Ash for more than just a day. It was another joke of cruel irony, and Misty was becoming rather discomforted by it all.

And when in the world were those two ever going to wake up? She wasn't going to sit there forever and wait. Not with the sun warming up to a God-awful temperature and, in the process, being baked in the vehicle. Not when the phone read close to nine-thirty in the morning. What was it going to take for them to wake up? Sunburns on their faces? Impatient and flustered by everything around her, Misty went with her last and definitely least desirable option. Leaning forward she saw that the keys were in the ignition and as she turned it on, the car blasted with a roaring clang of instruments and a male vocalist singing some evidently loud rock song. It wasn't ideal, but the radio did more than stir Jay and Drake awake. The men nearly jumped out of their seats and ended up hitting their heads somehow.

"God!" hollered Jay, eyes scrunched as his darted about. "What the hell?!-"

Dreary eyes cast across the scene irritably, rubbing their now sore noggins. Wearing a very timid smile, the two found Misty sitting up in her seat, sweat-dropping as they bore harsh glares.

"Sorry for the rude awakening, but I think we overslept," she explained sheepishly.

"Uggh, wha?" moaned Drake, caressing his sore temple with shut eyes. "Then why didn't you just shake us awake?"

"I tried," the redhead explained with a huff. She didn't mean to scare them like that, and she didn't intend for the music to be so loud, either. Still, it was about time they left dreamland and came back to reality. "So I did the next best thing."

"In the most obnoxious way," snorted Jay, his icy eyes straying away from the bright lights. "What time is it anyway?"

"Almost nine-thirty," answered Misty.

Jay's eyes squinted shut. "Shit."

"Well, you both had been driving for quite a while, so it's only natural you fell asleep," commented the gym leader again, sitting back in her seat.

"Yeah, but I should have woken you two up and gone into the Pokémon Center," said Drake, feeling bad about the entire thing. "It's not safe out here. Not with them around..."

That was an understatement. It was a miracle Team Rocket hadn't come by and possibly towed them away or worse, tranquilized them and carried the trainers off to some forsaken mountain where their top secret lair ruled. Thankfully, Vermillion appeared clear of any troubling organization whose main goal was to take over the world using the source of powerful Pokémon. Though that didn't mean they wouldn't come eventually.

"So, what do we do from here?" inquired Misty, who didn't expect either trainer to have an answer immediately. Especially after being awoken in such a brash manner.

Still, they were in dire need of some kind of plan. And Jay was already on it.

"We should give our Pokémon some leg room at the center," replied the master as he unbuckled his seat belt. "And I've got a phone call to make...and I need coffee."

* * *

The Oak laboratory was quiet that late morning.

The morning chores of attending to the roaming Pokémons' needs were complete, though that didn't mean all of Tracey's duties were finished for the day. With a faint smile and a good mindset, the Pokémon watcher went about his other jobs. When Prof. Oak was engrossed in serious research, usually Tracey was the one to step in and remind his mentor of _other_ things that needed to be done. For one, the professor was in dire need of breakfast and after seeing the small kitchen squeaky clean without a trace of a crumb, Tracey knew Prof. Oak hadn't attended to his first meal of the day.

So Tracey scrounged up what he could.

Eventually, with diligence of flipping fried treats of goodness and applying a layer of butter and marmalade jam down with a knife, the assistant entered the living room holding a Paras decorated tray. On the tray, he was balancing two slices of sourdough toast, two slices of crisp bacon, one egg sunny side up, and a glass of orange juice that sloshed gently as he walked. Once Tracey reached the professor's side, he had hoped the older man would notice his presence and the smell wafting through the air. But he hadn't. Instead, Prof. Oak was too reoccupied on entering information into his computer, his aging eyes skimming down and reading contents in an open, worn book, then back to the bright screen.

Tracey adjusted his throat. "Um, professor?" he piped up meekly.

A few seconds passed, but no response. The sound of fingertips hitting the keyboard took over the silence, and the writing and images across the computer screen were far too distracting for Tracey to ever be noticed. Calling for Prof. Oak's attention repeatedly was, again, nothing new, but for some reason Tracey felt worried over the older man's fixation. Lately the assistant just felt- unsure of what to make of the project. At first, he was more than excited, willing to do whatever it took to uncover new findings. But after finding the professor working late into the night constantly, and the dark circles taking over his already wrinkled skin...the compulsion was turning into what looked like an obsession.

Setting down the tray, knowing his calls were a lost cause, Tracey sighed. Then, his legs began the journey over to the sofa to reach for his own set of text. That is, until the creaking of the swivel chair rang through the young man's ears.

"Did you say something, Tracey?" Prof. Oak finally spoke up, blinking out of his engrossed stare.

Tracey glanced over his shoulder. The dark circles still dominated across the professor's face. "Uh, yeah. I brought you some breakfast," he motioned with his head.

As if he hadn't noticed the scent of salty bacon or the fragrance of sweet marmalade, Prof. Oak's dreary eyes lit up. "Oh! Thank you, my boy."

Wrinkled hands picked up a piece of bacon, nibbled on it, then tried a corner of his toast before gazing mindlessly back at the screen. The sound of keyboard pounding away took over the living room.

Tracey frowned.

The concept of his mentor becoming so absorbed in his work that he'd forget his surroundings and needs wasn't anything new. What was new was how dedicated the professor seemed about this research...how on top of the project he was. Usually, he would eventually cave in and work on something else at Tracey's recommendation or listen to his own aching mind, then come back to his work. However, it seemed as if the older man ignored his usual duties, and solely focused on anything revolving around the legendary bird. That or he was too absentminded to even hear the faint sound of his stomach growling for nutrients or that the darkening of the skies meant it was time to drift off into dreamland and shut down that blasted computer.

And he _did_ pull an all-nighter again. The typing on the keyboard was a dead-giveaway in itself...

"You know, professor, you should really take time to take care of yourself," Tracey soon commented, his eyes staring down at the still hardly touched breakfast.

Prof. Oak sighed. The typing ended. "I know, I know. But I was in the middle of my research. Unraveling the mysteries of Ho-Oh isn't as easy as understanding a Pidgey's habits and motives," he reminded with a hint of exasperation.

While that was all true, it didn't validate Prof. Oak's obsessive habits. Even after working on discovering more theories on Ho-Oh, Tracey still hadn't been told _why_ they were doing this and _why_ it was so necessary to complete it in a given amount of time. After a while, the assistant was beginning to feel a tad useless. Besides digging old books out of closets at the request of his mentor, and looking up key words and phrases in the same dusty books, he wasn't told any vital information. Anything that would clue him in on the entire purpose of the research.

Tracey wanted to know. He wanted to know so badly, not just so he could fully participate in the project, but to fully make sense of _why_ Prof. Oak was so immersed in the subject to begin with. The motivation of a researcher simply wanting to know more and make a grand discovery wasn't enough. There was something else to it. Especially after witnessing how antsy, vague, and, at times, even impatient Prof. Oak had become over it. He didn't make much chitchat, and when he did he used only a few words and grunts that turned into muffled jargon that was impossible to interpret. He even acted out all those strange mannerisms with Ash, and he was asking very simple and direct questions. As if the professor didn't want Ash to know... Thinking the worst conclusion was something Tracey did not want to believe or even consider. However...the great Prof. Samuel Oak was making his assistant think otherwise.

"You make a point..." Trailing thoughts left Tracey indecisive as to how to answer. Never in his wildest dreams did he want to disrespect his hero, however this was apparently the time when the man he admired most needed a little guidance from someone else. Someone who wasn't so absorbed in their research. "Prof. Oak? Not to sound rude or anything, but do you really have to keep working on this particular project? What about your other projects?" he suggested lightheartedly. There on the table was a textbook on a very different subject. "Like the releasing of Lapras into the wild after being raised in a domestic environment-"

"Well Tracey, you see, this project is very important to um- me," the professor explained, though it was obvious he was hurrying through his words. "There's a lot to get done and only so much time." Whether it made sense to him or not, Tracey nodded and kept silent. Prof. Oak...why was he being so discreet? And why was he sounding so hasty? Maybe he had pushed too far. Maybe the professor was experiencing some personal problems, and this project was just a way of avoiding whatever grievances he was currently facing. At least, that's what Tracey tried to rationalize.

For the first time the entire day, Prof. Oak had noticed something other than his current findings. The flicker of worry stirred vividly in Tracey's eyes.

The professor bared a smile of reassurance. "But you have been of tremendous help to me," he made sure to remind, earning a small smile and nod back from Tracey. In due time, it would only be wise and logical of him to inform Tracey on the entire project. But as for now... For some reason, Prof. Oak felt like he needed to wait longer. Even though his assistant was itching to know the truth, and the fact that telling him later wasn't going to make the words flow out any easier.

Sighing in fatigue from his mental thoughts, the professor looked back to the computer screen. "I uh- better get back to work. The breakfast was terrific. Really."

Determining whether the meal was terrific or not in just two bites wasn't enough to suffice Tracey. He still stood there awkwardly, eyes staring at his mentor with deep concern. He didn't want to sound pushy...but he needed to know. Otherwise, he felt he wouldn't be able to concentrate while working...or simply get the worries out of his head.

"Professor?" the assistant called again, only this time not as soft. "Is something wrong?"

A genuine look of concern was directed Prof. Oak's way.

He couldn't get past Tracey. After living together for so long, the young man knew all his quirks and could see through his body language and word choice. Plus, discussing the topic so cautiously with limited encounters didn't help much either in suppressing Tracey's wondering mind... As difficult as it was going to be to confess the truth, he could use Tracey's help. And he was getting awfully hungry...

The smell of bacon had finally gotten to Prof. Oak.

"Tracey," he started, taking in a deep breath, "can you keep a secret?"

* * *

"Thanks for going to all this trouble, girls."

"It's like no problem, Brock."

"Yeah, we don't mind at all."

In the repaired and ready to go glitzy trailer with their gym's logo stamped in bold writing on the sides, Misty's sisters did the honor of dropping Brock off at the dock. He was, to say the least, anxious about boarding the local liner that would take him to Pallet. Without Misty by his side, Brock felt tenser going about the mission alone. With her there, it would somehow be easier to expose the truth, knowing his testimony would be backed up by another trustworthy friend. Not that Ash didn't trust Brock. He most certainly did. But with this startling news the Pokémon doctor-in-training was about to deliver in regards to his friend's estranged father- that could change everything in more ways than one. What would Ash and his mother think? That Brock was crazy? That he had dreamed up some crazed concept or that he was set up by someone as some cruel joke? Then again, neither of those outcomes made much sense, and frankly, he didn't want his worries to be shown to the ladies around him.

Shaking his head, Brock kept his thoughts to himself, silently sitting by Violet, who was occupied flipping through a fashion magazine and gawking at juicy articles. He had pointed out a few swimsuits that he believed would have "looked great on her" but she dismissed his flirtation as something junior to her with a patronizing smile, leaving the trainer shot down again.

"I still don't think it's fair lil' sis got to run off with like Drake and his hunky friend," commented Lily in the passenger seat, adjusting her bright green sunglasses from the blinding light.

Daisy's gaze remained focused on the road ahead, turning a corner as she answered. "Yeah, but remember what like Brock said? Misty's trying to help Ash's dad."

That was the story Misty's sisters need to know. Too much detail would cause an unwanted uproar, though there was only so much Brock would do to keep the peace. They had every right to be aware of their little sister's whereabouts. However, with how serious the entire mission was, it was best they knew very little. With the way the Sensational Sisters gabbed, it wouldn't shock Brock if Team Rocket appeared at their door.

For some reason, Lily's nose crinkled, her pink locks swaying to the side as she turned to her older sister. "You mean _Ash_?" she echoed, one brow raised. "The one who used to be like super scrawny but got all muscled up recently?" She had realized Ash's transformation over some photos he had sent Misty from the redhead's phone, which of course led to some harmless teasing from her big sisters.

"That's the only Ash we know," hollered Violet from the back, setting her magazine aside. Apparently, she was already bored with it and picked up another one.

Lily's mouth remained agape as her gaze traveled back to Daisy. "You know what that means?" she started incredulously, as if it was so dire for them all to hear. "We like thought Ash's dad was hot! If he's got a kid he must be like super old!" she continued to elaborate, slightly disgusted and aghast by the realization that should have happened yesterday evening.

Unfazed by her young sister's declaration, Daisy shrugged. "I still like him."

"Uggh, Daisy!" Lily scoffed, still ever repulsed. She liked older men, but not _that_ old. Her idea was that he couldn't be five years older than her, which Daisy and Violet found silly to be such a stickler about.

"What?" the blonde woman responded, a short chuckle falling from her mouth. "I can't help myself! Older guys are _way_ less immature... And they usually have more money," she added, sweat-dropping, but she wasn't ashamed to admit the ever stereotypical perks.

Brock, still quiet during the ride, sighed and averted his eyes to the floor. He fumbled with his phone absentmindedly which only led to another sigh that grew louder with every huff. Slowly he caught the attention of Violet, who placed down her second magazine.

"Is something wrong, Brock?" she inquired, folding her arms over her chest.

Blinking in surprise, the trainer looked up to the dark-haired woman with a weak grin. "Ah, it's nothin'," he waved. "I just thought this girl from my class would call me back but uh- she hasn't."

"Bummer," was Violet's response, her perfectly tweezed eyebrows drooping. "Did you like give her any hints?"

"_Tons_," he nearly laughed, recalling all the wonderful gestures of his affection he had given the girl who sat next to him every day. Flowers, chocolates…he even helped her when she was sick and couldn't attend class, letting the young woman borrow his notes. Not to mention the classic polite gestures of holding doors open, pulling out her chair, and he even listened to her complaints in regards to some rowdy roommates. So to Brock, he was under the impression they _were_ making progress. Far enough progress he had invited her out to dinner with a poem he slaved over all night while studying for finals. But after that, she hadn't called.

Intrigued by the conversation, Lily turned in her seat and jumped in eagerly. "Did she reciprocate any of your like hints?" she asked.

"I thought so," responded Brock, stroking his chin. "I mean, we've gone out to dinner a couple of times and _I_ picked up the bill. I even helped her study for an exam when a guy she liked blew her off. I've been doing everything to get her to like me. I even wrote her a poem when I officially asked her out," he sheepishly admitted, still remembering all the catchy and clever puns word-for-word.

However, not everyone in the trailer was impressed.

"Like in front of people?" Lily persisted, her voice growing with faint concern.

Brock lowered his eyebrows. Then, he gulped. "Well no- I mean... I asked her out at her apartment after dinner...and her roommates were there," he admitted nervously, his mouth twisting to the side as he cast his gaze elsewhere. Simply thinking about the past events aggravated Brock's worried nerves to a level he had experience before, and dreaded every time. "She looked really stunned when I asked her, and her friends, well- I think they wanted to laugh."

All the more fascinated by the truth, Violet pursued, for herself and her curious sisters, "Then what happened?"

"She just got all weird and asked me to leave," concluded Brock with a pathetic sigh. "I haven't heard from her since. And that was close to a month ago." Even after all those weeks had passed, he still felt so embarrassed about the whole ordeal. Leaning on one knee, his arm raised up to the new girl of his dreams, his thoughts flooded with bliss and admiration- till her rather perplexed and aghast face and the faint chortles in the background registered in his mind. He had seen that face before.

And he was crushed.

Listening to poor, brokenhearted Brock's story as she drove, Daisy took in the conversation with consideration, and soon came to an answer. An answer that didn't surprise her. "I'm like sorry to tell you this, Brock," began the blonde woman with a sigh, "but it kinda sounds like she just took advantage of you."

Instantly, Brock's mouth fell open and his face flushed. "W-what? No way! Sh-she wouldn't do _that_-"

"You're too sweet, Brock," Daisy stated, trying to ease his growing hysteria.

"And desperate," Lily threw in. "No offense."

Brock sunk his seat with his chin dipped down to his chest. "None taken, I guess."

"I mean you like gave her flowers, candy, _and_ a free meal," Daisy carried on, taking all of Brock's actions into account as if it was a dire discussion. "What girl wouldn't take advantage of that?"

"But so wrong," Lily felt the need to mention, her voice thick with seriousness.

"Yeah, totally," Violet agreed, just as passionate about her sister's opinion. "I mean, I went out with a guy for at least a couple of dates and pretended to like him before turning him down. You have to do those kinds of things gently."

Brock slumped further into his seat. None of it was making him feel better. Especially the bit about a girl claiming to relish his company before letting him down "gently." And all the money, the time he had wasted- what his poor heart was suffering from all over again... Misty's sisters were feeding off each other's ideas, catching on to things that they figured "most women" would agree with and recognize. At this point, Brock was feeling rather small.

"She probably thought you guys were like in the friend-zone," Daisy was still busy deducing, being honest but with a sympathetic tone. "Then, when you jumped on her you probably freaked her out. At least, that's what it sounds like to me." Her words ended, however, when she caught sight of a depressed Brock sitting pathetically in his seat. Wincing softly, the blonde woman felt bad for her honest but needed words, and soon recalled Misty saying something about being "gentle" with Brock. The exact word Violet advised to use with a clingy guy.

Putting on a grin and a softer tone, Daisy attempted to cheer up the true romantic that Brock was. "You're a good guy, Brock. Really. But you come on _way_ too strong sometimes," she reminded, speaking of her own experiences with him and his automatic comments of how lovely he found them and how he favored her and her sisters' company. "Just like give her some time. I'm sure she'll come around."

That's what Brock had been doing, and at this rate, he felt like deleting her phone number altogether. He knew better than to have gone for it without consulting his father first, or even Misty for that matter. After all, she was the one constantly nagging him about his forceful tactics when attracting a woman to be in his company. Pondering over her harsh but real words made him wish Misty was with him at that very moment.

And Brock wasn't the only one thinking of the hot-tempered redhead.

"So speaking of romance," Violet suddenly started, eyeing Brock with an inquisitive look and smirk, "does Misty _really_ like Ash? 'Cause she like always denies it."

Looking back down at his feet, the Pokémon doctor in the making sighed.

What was Brock to do?

* * *

"Don't waste your breath. I want none of it."

Cassidy's violet eyes hardened at the small video screen resting in her hands. "But sir, we can assure you we had him cornered," she desperately insisted, though her voice remained even, without a single quake. "There was no way he could have escaped."

An irritated tap against what sounded like wood erupted. "But he did, _didn't_ he?"

Even between static, the less-than-delighted voice of their boss filled Cassidy and Butch with anxiety, shame, and frustration. He was in the city, right there in their recruited agents' grasp. And somehow, he got away. Like Brimble had warned. Like always.

They needed a new plan.

"We can catch him," Cassidy continued to assert. "We swear to you, sir, we will."

"And what do you propose?" her boss barked with a thick layer of mockery and dissatisfaction. "We cannot simply bail our agents out of jail. Not after their display of total incompetence. I am not about to risk my cloaked identity for their pathetic lives."

All in which was true. Team Rocket had come this far, and if their boss was still hungry with revenge, he wasn't about to blow his cover by cleaning up the mess his less-than-adequate recruits created. And nobody could disagree with a justifiable argument.

Trying not to lose her cool, Cassidy glanced to her partner in crime for assistance, and speedily, he stepped in. "We never suggested such thing, sir," Butch calmly cleared. "If anything, we will bail them out. Personally."

A cock of the head occurred with a ludicrous huff. "With _my_ organization's money?"

"Tragically, yes, but I think they are worth releasing."

A brow rose. "How so?"

"When they called us from the slammer, they said he wasn't alone. That two other people were with him."

Silence fell instantly.

For a moment, Giovanni believed his ears were deceiving him. What was this talk of these _two_ other people? Was Jayce Ketchum making a fool out of him? Taking his threat so lightly as if it was a buff? It may have been a bluff originally, but as the years went by Giovanni felt compelled to make that bluff a reality. And now, here was his chance to make it so. But still, the mad man wondered if he should- go about a different route. Awkwardly, Cassidy and Butch were still standing by, watching their employer's blank stare that could never easily be read. As they waited, the grunts couldn't resist slipping on nervous expressions, endlessly wondering what exactly was going through that warped head of their boss's.

Sooner than later, Butch took the initiative to ask. "Sir?" he piped up meekly, a hitch caught in the back of his throat.

"Who?" was soon spoken profoundly from the criminal's mouth with an obvious tone of intrigue in such an eerie manner.

Slightly confused, Butch blinked. "Uh- pardon-"

"_Who_ was _with_ him?"

The sharpness in Giovanni's powerful vocal cords made the hair on the back of the agents' necks stand up. However, they kept their uneasiness at bay, knowing their frightfulness for their boss would only egg him on in an irritable rage. And neither one wished to be victim to his hollering and ridiculing.

"A man around his age and a girl. A teenager," clarified Cassidy. "Our agents didn't get a good look at them, so we are unaware if they have any personal connections to our target."

Another pause infiltrated the air.

"Interesting," Giovanni soon breathed, his voice bathed in complete fascination. Then, it snapped back into something demanding and intimidating, like the flicking of a light-switch. "Cassidy, Butch, I want you to track them down," the crime boss ordered. "They must not have gotten that far. Most likely, they are heading for Vermillion City or Lavender Town. Do _not_ call me back until you locate them. Understood?"

"Yes, sir," the female agent nodded.

"We understand perfectly," her male counterpart added.

"Very well. Do _not_ fail me."

Once the video chat clicked off, Giovanni stared blankly into the black screen of his private communication device, all alone in his office. Things had certainly changed unexpectedly. Not that Jayce Ketchum vanishing without a trace was anything new. However, the development of him possibly having others lending him aid... It made Giovanni wonder all the more what the skillful trainer's goal was. Traveling back to Pallet would be foolish on his part; then again he _was_ working with others, something Giovanni warned if he'd ever try the man would suffer dire consequences. Pondering such spurred another rush of curiosity within the crime boss. If Giovanni's target's supposed teammates were helping him, how much _did_ they know? And what boundaries was Jayce Ketchum willing to cross in order to get what he desired? And why now after ten whole years? At first, Giovanni felt he needed to be full of rage, to rashly fulfill the ultimatum he warned the trainer all those years ago. To take out his precious family and make him come running out of the woods and at last aid in Giovanni's menacing intentions of the legendary bird. But now...all he felt was exhilaration as a brand new strategy spun its twisted wheels in his ever so twisted head.

With the creeping up of a sinister smile, Giovanni huffed to himself. _Well, well, well, Jayce Ketchum. You're finally shaking this up, aren't you?_ he snickered quietly, liking the sound of his developing tactic._ Your own personal recruits even with the threat I've held over your thick head. Fine! Just you wait and see! Two can play at this game._

* * *

**Author's Note: **As you can see, things are really starting to heat up. Giovanni is finally onto Jay which means more drama and new tactics to come! ;) Are Delia and Ash now in potential danger? I'm not going to spoil anything just yet! I can say the action** WILL** be coming eventually on both sides with Jay and the others as well as Ash and everyone else in Pallet. **IT WILL COME.** But I don't like to rush my work. I have plans, _believe_ me. It will just take some more developing to get there.

Chapters 9 and 10 are currently in the editing process with my beta reader, which will give me time to step back and focus on school for the next month and a half. I have midterms coming up, so I wrote out as many chapters as I could before I would have to focus solely on my studies. I truly hope you guys are enjoying every installment and thank you all for reading when you get the chance. All the positive encouragement and praise means a lot and keeps me motivated.


	9. Complex Feelings

**Author's Note: **Since this has been asked numerous times now, I am reassuring you guys that Ash and the gang in Pallet **WILL** somehow be involved in Team Rocket's plot **AND** startling developments **WILL** happen in due time. Currently, I am laying the ground work to help build the suspense and climax that is to come. However, I am not revealing any spoilers. Believe me, they are coming! I also appreciate your guy's patience with me posting chapters. Chapters 10 and 11 are currently with my editor as we speak and I am working on 12 between school work. I just completed my midterm however, more work and **FINALS** are going to be arriving in a few weeks. Then I'll be out for the summer. Wee!

**DISCLAIMER:** _Pokémon_ belongs to Satoshi Tajiri. My oc's belong to me. _West Side Story_ belongs to Jerome Robins. You will see why! lol.

* * *

**Sunlight's Return**

**Chapter 9**

_Complex Feelings_

Inside the _Butterfree Inn_ that late morning stood Jessie and James, anxiously waiting in their disguises for "mamma-twerp" to direct them to their interview.

Jessie had very early that morning scrounged up more outfits for the two, took her sweet time prepping her perfectly pinned hair in a messy bun, and evenly applied makeup. As for James, slipping on the simple clothes his partner had brought him was enough work. He was, to say the least, a nervous wreck going in, something very unsettling stirring inside him as they kept tapping their fingers at their sides. Usually, missions like these didn't scare him, but for some reason- something felt different. He had tried to decipher his unquiet nerves all night as he lay out in the warm summer grass but couldn't. Either James was simply too wound up, or Jessie's snoring and Meowth's constant sleep talking kept him awake.

Nevertheless, none of it helped.

Dreary eyes gleamed up to the magenta-haired woman beside him, his mouth twisting as other thoughts lay within his mind. Posing as a married couple, and the way Jessie had performed their little charade so exuberantly, like it was natural... James sighed. He was reading into things. He knew that. Nothing was new compared to the hundreds of other occasions they pretended to be people they weren't. This instance, however, defining themselves as domestic in such a quaint, homey setting...

"Say, Jessie?" started James quietly, her blue eyes slowly looking to his. Then, the man gulped as their gazes locked. "You called me quite a few pet-names yesterday when we were talking to the twerp's mom."

Instantly, Jessie's forehead crinkled, as did her nose. "Well, don't get funny about it," she huffed, snubbing him with her nose tilted high in the air. "That was just the actress in me trying to make a genuine portrayal of a broke, desperate girl one could easily relate to! And it worked, might I add," she added cheekily, one eye cocking back open at her partner.

James slumped in his stance, lowering his brows with a scoff. "Just barely," he mumbled.

Noticing his gloomy state all morning, Jessie finally snapped. "I don't know why you're getting so worked up about this. It's just an interview! With how well the conversation went with the twerp's mom- or should I say, _Delia_," she couldn't resist saying with a restricted, evil chuckle, "we're already in!"

Still, the man had his doubts. "I'm not sure, Jessie. What if Granny-twerp knows we're lying? After all, she's the one who's supposed to interview us."

"How can she, James? Like I said, we_ already_ fooled the twerp's mother. Why won't she be as easy to trick?"

"She just seems less out to lunch than her daughter."

At the mere mention of Leah, James's gaze swiveled forward, seeing the very woman before them. She was presently occupied with what appeared to be emails on her computer, while at the same time answering questions from chatty customers. The Rocket agents supposed they'd wait till she caught sight of them, though if it wasn't fairly soon, James knew Jessie would burst. However, he was not gung-ho about answering any personal questions based upon his work ethic.

Gulping once more, James couldn't help but think of the worst. "Behind that kind smile is a savvy and serious businesswoman," he explained bluntly, staring at her with wide, fretful eyes. "With all the people she works with and who are under her, she can probably smell a big fat lie a mile away! And she'll call us right out on it!"

His sudden crying irritated Jessie's ears, her blood pressure rising as she released a faint snarl. "Uggh, you're being overdramatic! Just play it cool and it'll all be fine!" Jessie ordered, pointing to herself with self-confidence. "Let_ me_ do most of the talking."

Telling him in that phrase only made James think of a dance number from one of his favorite musicals. Any advice from the lyrics of the song_ Cool_ provided by the musical _West Side Story_ wasn't much of anything other than staying calm and collected. Two things in which James felt he couldn't do. However, this mission wasn't like any other. He and Jessie wearing disguises, pretending to be innocent civilians, tricking others to get what they needed which, as usual, was that slippery, yellow mouse. But for some reason posing as workers who were actually going to work; workers who were a married couple, a couple who should show some signs of affection...it was strange to him. And the feeling he was experiencing could not be suppressed even with his evil duties calling.

At the front counter still stood a distracted Delia and Leah, one flipping through the mail and the other checking the orders for supplies on the main computer. The small crowd of customers dissipated enough for their minds to settle for a moment, getting back to the work needing completion. Delia eventually set down the looked-through mail and soon glanced up with a sudden grin.

"They're here, Mom," she announced as she looked to her focused mother.

Plainly, Leah left her work and lifted her head, finding the two people Delia mentioned beforehand. On any given day, Leah would be willing to give a thorough interview for potential workers, but she too was having strange feelings about the meeting. The names of the sweet, young married couple Delia talked so fondly of...

"Did you say their names were Jason and Celia?" the older woman soon asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Yes. Why?" her daughter responded, titling her head to the side with an ever oblivious expression.

Leah's eyebrows lowered. Delia didn't think anything of it. When Leah announced their first names as well as their _last_ names to Michelle, she too found it very remarkable that they sounded awfully close to Delia's and her estranged husband's names. Then again, it was probably just a coincidence. Still, it was undeniably bizarre that two people with such similar names sought help from Delia herself. The fact Delia wasn't catching on was another thing altogether.

No longer leaving them in awkward silence, Leah simply smiled and shrugged it off. "Nothing, dear."

But as she began her walk towards the patiently waiting couple, the innkeeper couldn't resist mouthing their names to herself in astonishment. Though, she disregarded the amazement with a shake of her head and ventured forward. As Leah drew closer, Jessie and James's muscles tensed, standing perfectly still as she greeted them with a friendly grin.

"Mr. and Mrs. Catchen?" she asked, and quickly received nods. From there, she proceeded with a gesture of her hand. "Right this way."

In no time at all, Jessie and James were led into a small room. It appeared to be Leah's main office, a closed-off section from the rest of the establishment. The room's purpose was primarily for filing paperwork, keeping books up to date, as well as scheduling and coordinating events. Silently, Jessie and James looked to their offered seats across from Leah, who sat in her own comfy chair. Her hands rested on her nicely styled desk, smiling at them. The undercover Rocket agents were still standing, and James's awkward whistling and subtle snapping of fingers annoyed Jessie enough for her to hiss under her breath.

"What are you_ doing_?" she whispered harshly. He had been doing that silly melody their entire journey to the interview room.

James's snapping slowed up as his whistling at last faded. "Playing it cool," he said. He didn't have time to explain the pop culture reference of his tune to Jessie.

Thankfully, for their sake, Leah didn't think much of James's compulsive need to snap and whistle, getting right down to business promptly. "So, my daughter tells me you're open to the idea of being hired as waiters?" she inquired, flipping open a binder filled with pages upon pages. Her questions for the new hired help were tucked away as well as blank pages for her written responses.

Exchanges were made between the two candidates, James looking utterly petrified, suggesting for Jessie to take the lead. "Uh, yes. That's right!" she answered bombastically, handing over their resumes. "We're in a bit of financial trouble, you see."

Leah stopped glancing through the given papers. "Oh, well I am so sorry to hear that."

Jessie combated the desire to smile from cheek to cheek as she gazed at the woman's sympathetic expression.

"We'll be okay," she instead said lowly, eyes cast down at her lap as she continued her pity fest. "That is- if we ever get a job..."

Her wandering eyes and quivering voice, however, didn't do much good in pulling any of Leah's heartstrings. "Well, fear not, because that's what this interview is for," she cleverly answered, bearing a very plain expression.

_Damn_, the magenta-haired agent cursed silently. Maybe James was right about her. _She doesn't seem to be fazed as easily like the twerp's mom... _

Taking a moment, Leah skimmed through the handed over documents, contemplating with an unreadable expression. Both of the agents twiddled their thumbs, wondering, wanting to know exactly what "granny-twerp" was thinking. And then, she spoke. "So, it says here that both of you have been servers before, as well as hair stylists, actors in a local theater production, magicians, entered a swimsuit contest, tried to become fashion stylists, once were egg sellers for an elderly neighbor who split the payments in half with you, took up the art of ventriloquism for a brief time, and you also have performed in an underwater ballet?"

By the time Leah had read through all their past work, her once look of peculiarity transformed into something suspicious. James was afraid fibbing about their past disguises in order to steal Pokémon wouldn't pass so easily under the radar, though Jessie was determined not to crack.

"And we were clowns at a carnival," Jessie felt the need to throw in, forcing herself to smile through it.

Leah paused. "Uh-huh," she at last said. "Well, I can say your resume is definitely the most- _diverse_ one I have seen yet."

"Being well-rounded is always best!" Jessie again quickly interrupted, doing anything to change the expression upon the woman's face. "That's what my mother told me! Hehe..."

"I can't argue that," responded the older woman, watching both of them closely. "Why don't we get to the questions, shall we?" Leah promptly suggested, breaking the ice with another friendly smile and clicking of her pen. "First of all, what would you say are your greatest professional strengths? How about you start, Jason? You've been so quiet, sitting there."

James wasn't prepared for the twerp's grandma's encouragement, insisting him to start first. He had no clue what to say! All he could do was try to recall what similar questions he had to answer on the form he filled out to be permitted into Team Rocket's graces originally...

"Um, well I uh..." His fumbling over words and desperate looks to Jessie from the corner of his eye only aggravated his partner. She gave him a stern glare to get a hold of himself, so he tried, swallowing while trying to steady his voice. "I-I would say that my greatest strengths in the workforce would be reliability, encouraging my coworkers, and- timeliness."

"Okay," Leah nodded, jotting down notes. "And how about you, Celia?"

"That's easy," she huffed, folding her arms across her chest. "Determination, sufficiency, and honesty."

A snort was literally held back at Jessie's last claimed "strength." Determination was one without question, sufficiency on her part needed some work, and honesty...that definitely needed work.

"Okay," replied Leah again. "Now, what would you consider to be your weaknesses?"

Another glance was made between the "married couple."

"I can be impulsive at times," Jessie first answered.

"I can be quite the introvert," admitted James shyly.

"And I overdress for occasions- a lot."

"I do that too," James quickly agreed, turning in his seat just slightly, as if fully engaged in that part of the interview. He and Jessie did tend to dress-up on any given opportunity, and immediately, confessing such weaknesses and strengths was beginning to seem...easier.

"Okay, then. How do you handle and react to stressful situations?" Leah suddenly asked, finishing up her latest notes.

Green eyes shot up as James considered his response. Stressful situations...he had been in plenty of those. So many, he considered himself experienced in the field. And yet, the "stressful situations" never became a breeze.

Swallowing his pride, the disguised agent answered, "I cry. And she gets angry easily."

The pointing to Jessie brought up a grinding of teeth and a narrowing of brows on cue. "I do not!" Then, she stopped herself short, blue eyes dashing back to the woman who would determine their employment status in mere minutes or a few hours. Nervousness fell from Jessie's lipstick-smacked mouth as she released a weak grin. "Uh well, sometimes I can be a tad sensitive..."confessed the woman, eyes drawing to the side.

Either Leah thought nothing of it, or simply kept on writing. "All right. Can you elaborate a little more on that, please?"

Elaborate _more_? Well, for one thing, James never liked what started an argument: the raising of voices. That and name calling, and ridiculing, and pointing out every flaw even when he worked so hard traveling across a new region with hardly any proper supplies for food or shelter-

Maybe working for Team Rocket, for _the_ _boss_,_ was_ getting to him.

Fingertips pulled at his pants, another nervous reflex. "I don't like confrontation. I prefer for things to go smoothly."

"And I...get impatient with incompetent people," confessed the man's partner, though James was thoroughly surprised how honest Jessie was becoming. "Especially when they can't follow orders or a conversation." In some respects, the interview might have been playing minds games on that.

A rising of an eyebrow altered Jessie's attention to Leah. "Meaning you become upset with your coworkers or customers? I just need you guys to be honest," she said evenly, not a hint of judgement in her voice.

"Well then...both," bitterly admitted the female Rocket agent. However, a part of her felt better for...admitting the truth.

As the interview process continued, Leah was still wearing her perfectly executed poker face. The small smiles and the relaxation of the muscles left Jessie and James unsure as to where they stood. All they could do was helplessly watch her pen pivot across paper, and as to what notes the woman was taking was left unknown to the agents. Too many knickknacks, a stapler, a small calendar, a brightly colored container full of paperclips, sticky-notes, folders, and a picture of the twerp in his younger years... The photo of the smiling ten-year-old boy made Jessie's blood boil, though she kept her cool by a slight nudge of the leg from James. She tried not to look, but with the constant brief moments of silence and that mischievous little boy she knew all _too_ well staring at her from the corner of her eye-

"Very well," Leah finally said, completing her other section of notes. Then, a wider smile bloomed from her lips. "Now for a fun personality question, what Pokémon do you see yourself as?"

That was unexpected.

A growing heap of emotions swirled inside Jessie at this point. _That_ was a question they _had_ to answer? How absolutely ridiculous! At this rate, Jessie didn't know what to think. Was this woman seriously pulling them for a loop or were these questions truly ones that would be asked in an interview? Wondering such a thought led the female agent to realize she had been asked that before. Her original application for Team Rocket was covered in those trivial yet somehow important questions. And then, she remembered why she was so mad about it. Questions similar to this one were jokingly put on her application thanks to hired grunts who found enjoyment teasing those below them.

Boy, was this interview stirring up some suppressed feelings and memories. And not just in one way.

"A mighty Moltres, without a doubt!"

James's sudden boisterous exclaim left Leah wide-eyed, while Jessie found the need to slap her forehead with a quiet shake of her head. She thought, after all those years, they were past James's flamboyant and outré belief of being a Moltres through heart and mind. He surely had changed his tune of playing the meek and feeble husband.

Another puzzled expression crossed Leah's face. "How so?"

"Because it burns with a passionate heart, soars through the sky even with the thickest and most thundering rain clouds, and its flames never go out even in the darkest of times!" summed up the man, his eyes closed as he declared his claim with such vigor and gusto.

Nodding back slowly, the innkeeper left another unreadable note of James's personal comparison to a legendary bird. However, her peering up at him oddly showed enough to Jessie.

"And you, Celia?" she soon asked, trying to carry on normally.

Jessie fluttered her eyelashes with another confident look. "A beautifully groomed Flareon," she stated, keeping her enthusiasm at bay, unlike her partner. "Its long, luxurious, fiery, and curly fur reminds me of my wonderfully soft hair!" she cackled, fluffing the bun on top of her head with a harmless little push of her hand.

On the contrary, Leah dismissed Jessie's claim of self-beauty and kept writing away, neutral as ever. They both wanted so badly to get on the twerp's grandmother's good side to be hired, to secretly stash food away in their pockets for snacks, to earn money, and to most importantly snatch that yellow mouse that gave them nothing but grief...

"So for a more personal question, where do you see yourselves in five to seven years?"

One last unexpected twist was thrown in Jessie and James's way, though this one hit hard, scratching the surface of their soft underbelly. Weary eyes peered at each other in unison, both waiting for the other to speak first. For once, Jessie didn't know how to swiftly respond with a believable yet farcical tale all the same. What would she do in the next five to seven years...that she didn't even know in the current role she was performing. And honestly, she had no idea where she'd be in her own reality.

But James wasn't timid to step in.

His gaze gravitated to his worried partner one more time, and then focused his attention back on the awaiting innkeeper. "I'd like to imagine that Celia and I will have steady jobs," he began earnestly. "That she'll be pursuing her dream as a massage therapist-"

"_Chiropractor_, dear."

James winced softly at his subtle mess up. "Right, I mean _chiropractor,_" he corrected. "And as for me...an actor," he finally proclaimed, his voice growing stronger. "An actor on Broadway like I was born to do! Singing _There's no Business like Show Business_! And, well," James soon calmed down, collecting himself with a sheepish smile, "for us to have a home- at least one we could rent- with all the things we need to live. To pay the bills, to have heat, to grow a garden, maybe even redecorate our new home, or take our first little one to school..."

Saying such things... Such normal wishes he had once pondered at a younger age, the concept of a comfy and safe place to call home with someone there to always support and care for him like no one else could... A sudden shake in his eyes prohibited James from continuing, both Leah and Jessie gazing at him in pure silence, his words stealing their attention from any other possible distraction. Then, the man spoke up, his eyes lifting back to Leah with a broader but nonetheless gentler smile.

"Living a domestic life, I guess, without any complications!" he concluded, shrugging just slightly. "No worries of debts..."

If James would have known that Leah was nearly one-hundred percent sure to offer them open positions, James would have done a happy dance for his accomplishments and for his quirky but loyal team. Jessie, on the other hand, had softened her intense deep blue eyes quite a bit, and found difficulty focusing on something other than her nearly tearful partner. James's simple yet ardent words...

Hadn't that been what she was truly seeking as well?

* * *

The Pokémon Center was lively and littered with trainers, but not too congested to the point where one couldn't reach the front counter for assistance.

Once fully waking their foggy minds, Jay, Drake, and Misty sought refuge inside the establishment. In reasonable time, they were able to have access to one of the phone booths supplied at the center as well as release their Pokémon from their pokeballs to stretch their legs. However, before Misty had a chance to set free her awaiting Pokémon, she was mesmerized by the well-trained and beautifully groomed creatures before her. Seeing how sufficiently clean and content Jay and Drake's Pokémon appeared only furthered to ease Misty's feelings on their sudden appearance. If they were the kind of responsible trainers one would hope most to be like, then the water gym leader was certain there was enough good in the two men to be secure in their presence.

She had recognized Drake's Pokémon immediately, recalling those years ago when she watched Ash go head-to-head with the islander in his final battle in the Orange Islands. Venusaur, Onix (who had be stored away back in his pokeball due to size), Gengar, Electabuzz, Ditto, and of course the famous Dragonite, still appeared in good shape, yet older all the same. Each and every one was amazing to gawk at and admire, but seeing Jay's... They were new to Misty. And exciting. She never knew what Pokémon Ash's father carried, other than the Vulpix she had heard much talk about. It appeared that Jay didn't have his entire Kanto team he originally started with, now mixing around the many Pokémon he captured from every region.

Misty's grin widened at the magnificent creatures, hurried footsteps racing up to the relatively calm Pokémon before her.

"These are all your Pokémon?" she asked eagerly, looking to Jay.

He was about to use the open phone booth, but stopped as he promptly gazed over his shoulder. "Yeah," he replied with a faint smile. "But I have more at Prof. Oak's lab."

"Can I pet them?" the gym leader considered to ask, her excitement rising. "If that's okay."

"Sure. They're all pretty tame," the master answered casually.

With the needed permission, Misty swiveled back around and pondered for a moment with a smile. Who was she going to choose to admire first? Jay's diverse mixture consisted of a stunning aloof Luxray, a happy-go-lucky Gogoat, a methodical Braviary, a surprisingly passive Tyranitar, a strong and sturdy Swampert, and, not to Misty's surprise, an adorable, brilliantly colored Vulpix. After Ash had talked about Vulpix so fondly, there was no shock in Misty's system that Jay still carried the fox with him. It was ironic in her view, too similar of a relationship to Ash's and Pikachu's.

Thinking about such caused Misty to crouch and for her hand to dive forward. With a gentle touch, her fingertips caressed the curly thick fur on top of Vulpix's head. The soft and smooth feeling alone was something Misty knew Brock would be impressed with, and the big, pretty eyes staring up at her with a faint coo of a "vul" got Misty twitterpated.

"So this is the famous Vulpix Ash has talked so much about?" she playfully asked, only for the older fox to pursue more of Misty's attentive pets. "Aww, you're such a sweetie!"

Misty's pleasant giggles and words drew Jay's attention again, gleaming once more at the gym leader. "So Ash has talked about her?" he inquired, trying to hide the anxiousness in his voice.

But Misty didn't notice it. "Uh-huh," she nodded back. "He's mentioned Vulpix a couple of times. How sweet and gentle she was. And I can see why!" she empathized as Vulpix felt the need for more attention, snuggling closer to Misty's hand.

Watching the innocent display melted Jay's icy gaze as he smiled softly. Yet there was a quiver in his heart. He dismissed it rather quickly, though, his thoughts trailing back to the mission at hand and how suddenly dazzled Misty was by his big fish brute of a Pokémon.

"And your Swampert is _sooo_ magnificent!" the redhead complimented, soon stroking the snout of the muscular brute while admiring his winsome features. "He's so smooth, and shiny, and utterly precious! Oh, I wish I had a Swampert!"

The gym leader's gushing only led to more pats and strokes against Swampert's head, admiring every inch of the large and strapping water type. At this rate, Jay couldn't help but break out into a bigger smile, a deserving reward for Misty's efforts and her willingness to help brewing in his head. "Well, to pay you back, if I ever get Swampert a lady friend you can have one of his...spawns," he concluded, realizing the idea sounded better than how it came out.

Nevertheless, Misty seemed tickled pink by the idea. "No way! Really? Thanks, Mr. Ketchum!" she exclaimed, snuggling closer to the burly beast.

Jay's smile slipped into a faint smirk. "Sure thing, kid."

Despite the previous day and her disappointing call to Ash that morning, Misty was beginning to feel better about the events to come. She supposed the concept of petting a Pokémon brought relaxation to the mind as well as releasing the chemical oxytocin was indeed true. Being surrounded by spectacular and equally friendly Pokémon lightened the redhead's worries and excited her to the point she felt compelled to finally release her own creatures for a little meet and greet. After all, they were all going to be traveling together, working side by side, so it was only natural they'd get acquainted sooner than later.

"Oh, this is so cool!" she said with equal happiness, hands soon diving to her zipped-up purse. "I'll have to get my Pokémon out so you all can meet- WHAT?!"

Instantly, icy blue eyes were drawn back to Misty, who stayed crouched in a motionless state to the ground. Her face gave a blank stare into the open bag as if an unbelievable occurrence struck her deepest core. At the same time of her unexplained holler, Drake strolled over with small array of breakfast items supplied by the center's cafeteria, addled at the sight of Misty's screech and gaping mouth. His first attempt of understanding was to look to his older brother, but all he received in response was just as befuddled a look as the one he bore.

"What's the matter?" the islander asked, now looking to the girl for an answer.

Misty's eyes widened, frantic hands digging through her small purse as she madly cried: "They're not here, they're not here, THEY'RENOTHERE!"

"Who's not here?" Jay asked, raising a perplexed eyebrow.

"MY POKEMON!"

It was as if the entire world was beginning to crumble around Misty, her magnified shriek echoing off the center's walls. Fellow trainers stared at the hysterical girl for a brief time and regardless if Misty could feel their eyes upon her or not, she did not care. Soon after her outburst, Jay and Drake exchanged their own glances for a moment, puzzled expressions still crossing their faces. They didn't know what to think.

"How in the world did that happen?" Drake eventually inquired, looking back to the distressed redhead.

"That's what_ I'd_ like to know," Misty bit back sharply, eyebrows twitching as she gawked at her near-empty purse of red and white 'balls. Corsola, Politoed, Goldeen, Staryu, Gyarados...none of them were there. "I could have sworn I had them when Brock and I came to see you guys..." Then in a flash, she finally looked up, her face turning pale. "Oh, no."

She spoke her dreaded words so quietly, yet it was enough to capture the ears of the men behind her.

"What?" Jay this time pushed.

"I know where they are," replied Misty, still bearing a very soft but panicked voice. "They're some odd miles away that are too far to trek back to!"

"Meaning?"

"My Pokémon are with my sisters," she hissed again, tired of explaining. After the mishap with Team Rocket at the festival, Misty had fed the creatures and provided plenty of rest for them, but when she and Brock journeyed to the inn the men were staying at, she had forgotten to tuck the pokeballs back in her purse. With a mental kick in the head, her peeved gaze maneuvered over to the contents that still lay against heart-patterned lining. Misty wasn't completely without Pokémon. Though only having one of her arsenal wasn't as ideal as carrying the allotment of six. Sighing, the redhead accepted her situation nonetheless. "But I do have Azurill-"

"Psyduck!"

Until an unexpected bright light shined out of her bag. The well-known sound of a pokeball splitting open revealed a clueless yellow duck before the gym leader, her upper body drawing back in surprise from the unforeseen Pokémon inches away. And the most undesirable Pokémon to have been left on her team. Cocking its head to the side, the duck quacked his name again, looking to her with the same old indifferent expression he always bore. Misty's teeth clenched together in a tight hold, her frustration boiling through her reddening cheeks. Apparently, she did have two of her water types with her.

"Psyduck?!" screeched the gym leader, her fists in front of her. "Of all the Pokémon _you're still _here?"

Jay couldn't help but snort. "What's with the duck?"

"Too many things," groaned Misty again, aggravated eyes glancing to the amused man then back to her Pokémon. "Arrgh, Psyduck! Why can't you _ever_ stay inside your pokeball?!" But all the Pokémon gave was another pathetic response, its vacant eyes not reading a single hint of emotion. Without restraint, Misty slapped her forehead and began mumbling more unintelligible comments to herself. It was just the start of her wallowing in self-pity.

Even at that, Drake jumped at the chance to lighten the discouraging situation. "So you only have Psyduck and Azurill," he noted, his voice cool and filled with positivity. "At least you have two Pokémon instead of none."

Misty's head remained slumped, her shoulders still scrunched towards her neck in defeat. "Yes, but Psyduck isn't the most consistent battler."

Jay frowned at this. "You're a gym leader, and you can't get that duck to listen to you?"

"He's not as easy to train as he looks!" the redhead claimed defensively. "He's afraid of the water and he can really own battle when he gets a big headache," she elucidated, her voice bathing in pathetic grief.

However, Jay didn't share the same reaction. Instead, he became more muddled, trying to wrap his head around the concept of a water-born creature that refused to live in the natural preserve it was meant to. "What water Pokémon is afraid of the liquid they're supposed to _naturally_ swim in?" he contradicted.

His words weren't considered with much thought on how the gym leader would respond, for the twirling up and the twice as nettled expression Misty gave him was unannounced from his perspective. "I don't know," she shot back. "You're the Pokémon Master. Why don't _you_ tell me?"

At that moment, a rush of apprehension soared through Drake's bones, his gaze not lifting from the extremely exasperated teenage girl and his taken-aback brother. It was clear that two very similar temperaments weren't going to be easy to deal with when they clashed, considering Drake had observed that Misty had quite the sarcastic mouth his brother did. So wishing for a rift not to occur, the islander stepped in.

"All right, all right," he urged hurriedly but with calmness. "I think we've had enough excitement. Let's just cool off for a while, Misty."

In a huff but thankfully without further argument, Misty sighed and nodded. "Oh, all right," she griped, returning Psyduck to his pokeball before strolling away from the two men.

Soon after, Drake looked to his brother. "I'll go calm her down so you can talk to Sam."

Jay nodded back. "Thanks."

He was silently apologetic for irritating Misty. Nonetheless, he did not find her outburst entirely his fault. How was he supposed to know her less than adequate duck couldn't do a dog-paddle? Sighing as he at last punched in the number for the Oak Laboratory, the man brushed the thought off and decided he'd apologize to her once he was off the phone. After the first ring, though, Jay didn't have much time to think about his request for pardon on his comments in regards to Psyduck, due to a face quickly popping up on the video screen.

"Hello? Oh, well you must be Mr. Ketchum!"

Jay shifted back. It was not the grey-haired professor with the start of wrinkles forming on his face that the master was expecting. Instead, a young man with dark-green hair answered the call, his expression cordial and voice sunny as he sported a pink shaded headband. Who was this boy? And how did he know his name? Jay had a hunch who the teenager was, but could not be sure without any proof.

Slightly panicked, Jay tried to remain calm. "Uh, yeah. Are you?-"

"Prof. Oak's assistant?" the young man finished, his voice not wavering. "Yes I am! The name's Tracey. Nice to meet you."

"Hi- Tracey. Nice to meet you, too," Jay replied hesitantly, his eyes wandering off to the side as he tried to relax his shocked mind. "Is uh, Prof. Oak there?"

Tracey nodded. "Sure thing. Just hold on a sec."

He sat the phone down carefully and appeared to have only walked a few feet to earn the professor's attention, having Sam meander over with a small smile. "Ah, thank you Tracey," the professor said once he sat down. Then, he turned his attention to the aghast man. "Hello, Jayce! Sorry about that! Your son's Muk wasn't fully cooperating with his first snack of the day!" laughed Sam, rubbing the back of his head.

Jay had been told plenty of stories by the professor in regards to Ash's extremely clingy, slimy purple blob. And so, he didn't bother to inquire. He was still too flustered about Tracey knowing his name, existence, and whereabouts to think about the overly lively Muk. "It's fine, Sam. But would you mind telling me when you decided to include your assistant in on all of this?" he boldly asked, arching a brow in suspicion.

Though his baffled look didn't do much to Prof. Oak's still ever-cheerful voice. "Actually, I just told Tracey about everything today. And quite frankly, he's eager to help out."

"I'm here for anything you need, Mr. Ketchum!" Tracey suddenly leaned in, waving as he took up half the room on the video screen. "A friend of Prof. Oak's is a friend of mine."

Jay paused. "Um...thank you?"

"No problem! I'll let you guys finish talking," Tracey quietly spoke to Sam, walking back to whatever his work was for the day.

As Sam turned his focus to Jay again, the rather confounded expression had not lifted itself from Jay's eyes, eyebrows, or mouth. So, Sam thought it was best to finally assure the master. "He means well," started the professor. "Tracey is quite bright and thanks to his good eyes, has helped me spot things that I accidentally overlooked!" And candidly, Prof. Oak felt a lot of stress was removed from his shoulders in confiding with another trustworthy soul. It was to be expected that his assistant had a million questions about the dilemma and that the shock took a couple of hours to wear off. Still, he was fascinated by it all and thoroughly fervent to help Prof. Oak in the research department. And to possibly see the Ketchum family pieced together again.

Huffing to himself quietly with an amused tone, Jay threw back his own occurrence of unexpected events. "Well, you're not the only one who's got a kid helping you."

Now it was Prof. Oak's turn to frown. "What are you saying, Jayce?"

It was time for the big reveal. Bending his upper body to the side, Sam Oak captured the sight of not only Drake but another companion in their group. His vision may have been fuzzy due to the distance and the aging of his eyes, but Prof. Oak knew without a doubt who was seated beside Drake, talking and laughing. Jay running into one of his son's closest friends and now befriending her enough for her to feel comfortable in his company... It was unbelievable. Now the professor felt his own surge of questions accumulate. Miraculous couldn't begin to describe the unveiling of it all.

"May I ask how you ran into Misty?" Sam swiftly questioned, brows raised in amazement.

"Long story short, she was at the festival. And now she and Brock want to help out," Jay added, the delight of it all growing in his voice.

Prof. Oak blinked. So the festival_ he_ mentioned _did_ bring about a valuable reason for them to attend. Under no circumstances was the professor aware that two of Ash's oldest friends would be partying it up in Fuchsia, and just the thought of the entire interaction... Sam wished he was there to see it all play out, though he was satisfied knowing it apparently went fairly smoothly for them to wish to tag along. However, if Jay ran into Misty _and_ Brock- where was the rock expert? He wanted to ask just that, but, feeling too stunned by the bombshell, sat back with an agape mouth.

"You must be joking?" Sam instead said.

Jay shook his head. "I'm not. They came forward willingly, and to be honest, I'm glad to have their assistance. They seem like good kids."

"They are. But honestly, Jayce, it wouldn't surprise me if you got more people roped into this mess."

"I don't plan to," the master assured with another grin. "And if you're wondering about Brock, he's on his way to see you."

Still, Jay's pleasant demeanor could not lift Sam's worries. Dangerous couldn't even begin to describe the position Jay was placed in, and now, Drake, Misty _and_ Brock had tangled themselves up in it too. Prof. Oak was all for a solution, for the Ketchum family's life to go back to normal as if nothing horrific tore them apart those ten years ago... And yet, Sam couldn't shake off the thought of Misty and Brock recruiting themselves into such a treacherous environment. Not that they hadn't encountered plenty of frightening challenges as trainers on their travels. But this, dealing front and center with Team Rocket's calculative and manipulative crime boss...this was a whole new level of hazardous.

Soon, Sam's eyebrows lowered and a sigh escaped his mouth. "So when should I be expecting him?" he asked.

"In a few days, I assume. Misty said she'd keep in contact with him, so if something comes up we'll let you know."

"Very well. I trust you're all right. And that the children_ will_ remain safe?" stressed the professor once more, anxiety brewing in his vocal cords.

He knew Misty and Brock were near adulthood, but to Prof. Oak they were still the kids he educated and lent aid to in their travels to become great trainers. And Jay recognized their naiveté as well. Not only that, but he was starting to sense the uncertainty in his former instructor's voice, only hesitating all the more about spilling the rest of the details.

"I will do my best to keep it that," nodded Jay, trying not to lose his confidence in the matter. "They're part in the plan however..."

His sudden trailing thought left Sam with another puzzled expression, urged to hear the rest. "What is it?" the older man insisted, silently dreading the news he feared was nothing but more trouble.

"I thought that if Brock could speak to Delia and Ash with you, to tell them the truth, we could ensure their safety," the master continued to explain, hoping his conviction was enough to earn the professor's approval. "Giovanni knows no connection of Brock to me or even you. So technically, it wouldn't be coming from my mouth."

A soft nod and pause was made as if Sam was considering Jay's proposal. Till he threw back his own set of questions. "How would you ensure our safety? And what of Misty then? How would you protect her from Team Rocket?" he pushed, his voice growing stronger with every delivery.

The bite in the professor's words made Jay draw back a little. The euphoria of aplomb he was on a high from struggled to stay alive. But the master wasn't ready to give up quite yet. "By all of you going to the police station," he answered, his words hinting with determination as he described the plan so assertively. "I know it sounds crazy, but if we can get all of you in a secure setting, and Drake, Misty, and me at the league hall, then Giovanni won't be able to touch any of us."

If only it was that simple.

Leaning back in his chair, Sam folded his arms in his lap and paused once more. The older man had his doubts. He wondered if Jay's methodical side was being overshadowed by his idealistic vision, which, to Sam's knowledge, was quite rare. Maybe after being on the run for so long, Jay had finally cracked, and his desperation was seizing full control of his already vulnerable state. Then again, it wasn't as if the plan was riddled with flaws. It was, in a positive perspective, fairly solid, with few complications and a hopeful outcome. Hence: _hopeful_ outcome. No scheme could really be set in stone as "perfect" without the anticipation of it falling apart along the way. And that could be at the hands of Giovanni himself, his persistent grunts, or even by one of them accidentally making a misstep...everything and everyone could set off a trap no one wished to plummet into. And Sam had witnessed enough agony on Jay's part, talking with him, watching him through the video screens in his darkest times... Almost not recognizing him. In an unexplainable way, Sam saw Jay as the man who proved to everyone he could take care of himself, and yet he could not stop thinking of him as the teenager that was so full of passion for training, so gifted he wowed his peers and his own instructor humbly without a second thought about it; the boy who looked up to Sam with admiration and respect, the boy who dreamt with such zeal and want it could not be measured- The boy who always wanted out of Pallet. And now, he wanted back in.

The boy who no matter how talented or intelligent he was…was still susceptible to falling.

Eventually, Prof. Oak swallowed. "Or this will cause more havoc," finally spoke the professor. From there, he readjusted himself in his seat and his eyes turned a dark shade of gloom. "I'm not sure about this plan to be quite honest, Jayce. It could work, or it could endanger everyone's lives. Who knows how many scouts Giovanni already has out looking for you!" he felt the need to remind sharply. "Watching you-"

"But I have no other options, Sam," Jay interrupted, just as passionately. Just as Sam expected. With a heavy huff, Jay drew his eyes down, casting a dreary glimmer that spoke of tiredness, stubbornness, insistence...loneliness. "I can't keep running," the master finally declared, looking back to the professor. "I can't keep leaving Ash and Delia in the dark. I can't. I refuse to do it anymore. And if anyone is going to face the repercussions it'll be me and me alone. As long as I'm freed from this damn trap and everyone else freed from their doubts...I'll do it. I'll do whatever it takes."

Such profound avidity to plunge into danger alone spoke so many words to the astounded professor, he didn't know what to say. Jay had had it. This was it for him. Either now or never. He could no longer stand being controlled by someone's twisted mind games. It was impractical for Jay to continuously run, and when he'd finally slip into Giovanni's clutches, would the outcome possibly be worse than not trying a new tactic at all? Would the world be in a precarious state because no one tried, because they all simply gave up? Giovanni had proven himself to be exceptionally adamant and Jay wasn't going to be released from any of the responsibility unless he at last confronted it. Jay wanted liberation, he wanted relief, he wanted happiness- he wanted his family. And not to Sam's surprise, the man was willing to settle the deal himself, even if that meant... Quickly, the professor shook off the grave thought.

Still rather torn on his position, Prof. Oak became more understanding of Jay's point of view, and when considering everything...a risk was better than letting the fate of the world be placed into the hands of a madman. With another swallow, Sam proceeded seriously, his last question on the matter.

"And this is your final decision?" he dared to ask.

Jay's icy eyes intensified. "Yes."

* * *

In an effort to pacify the miffed gym leader, Drake succeeded in pulling the girl aside and sat her down on a nearby bench. The islander's attention was on a talking Jay for a brief time, but quickly gravitated to Misty who sat slumped in her seat, with her cheek resting in her hand. Drake had little to no experience with adolescents. Besides battling them as they fought for the Winner's Trophy, he hardly ever interacted with their growing minds. He had no clue how to fully understand them, being childless himself, only furthering the awkwardness between the two. Still, the kind man made an effort.

"I know this won't fix anything, but here." His plain offer was gestured by what was stashed away in the small paper bag, stamped with the Pokémon Center's logo. "You should probably eat something. And because of your- situation, you can have first pick."

Slowly, the corners of Misty's mouth lifted. She was awfully hungry, and if she was going to cope with her _unique_ duck and all his special needs, she would need to calm her gurgling stomach and collect her wits. Sighing, she lowered her voice and spoke evenly once more. "Thanks, Drake."

Sorting through the bag, Misty settled on the small container of French toast sticks, pulling the box out and handing the crinkled bag back over to the islander. Her thankful grin prompted Drake to nod back, and then he set the bag by his side. From there, he folded his hands, leaned forward, and stared off into space. Ripping open the small flimsy container of maple syrup, Misty's eyes remained focused on Drake. It was odd to be sitting next to a man who had made such great accomplishments in the battling business, yet thrilling, for he had become a big idol and crush in Misty's teenage years. The carefree side of her silently gushed at Drake's presence, innocently blushing at the thought of traveling with the muscular Orange Crew leader. He was so down to earth it was incredible and the fact that he was related to Ash's father by blood...

That was a fleet in itself.

Finally chewing her first bite of her late breakfast, Misty swallowed and soon drummed up the courage to start a conversation. At last, her animosity towards the situation was starting to dissipate, and she displayed her more levelheaded side again. "I'm sorry for snapping at Mr. Ketchum."

Drake gave her a quick side-glance and grinned faintly. "I'm sure he understands. I wouldn't worry about it."

Then, silence claimed the air between the two, both pairs of eyes looking off in different directions as the commotion inundated the center. So with another gulp of courage, Misty tried to speak again. "So how do you feel about your brother being the Pokémon Master?" the gym leader inquired, sea-green eyes plainly beaming up. That question had been rattling in the back of her mind, and finally she had a chance to ask it.

Drake blinked back, paused, and then shifted his gaze forward. "Honestly, I haven't had much time to process it. But if anything I find it...inspiring," he disclosed, a small grin spreading from his lips. "Because my brother was what inspired me to become a professional trainer."

Misty's eyebrows rose. "Really?"

"Yeah. I remember days on end where I'd watch him battle, learn how to properly treat wounds, helped him groom his Pokémon, understand the physiology of various types... Jay taught me plenty of battle strategies; he even lent me books that I could have sworn he'd refuse to part with!" the islander chuckled lightheartedly. Images of his fourteen-year-old self flashed through the man's head, and the constant glancing up at the nineteen-year-old who he wanted to understand, to relate to, to be just like... A big brother figure he had always dreamt of having but never knew he did. Unexpectedly, something dark shifted in his eyes as they refused to part with the man standing a few feet away from them. As if something had tainted the once pleasant memories.

"Our father was never the kind of man to show...fatherly compassion. Especially with Jay," Drake empathized, his voice growing thicker with somberness. "He was very distant with us, whether that was because of work or just his personality, I still don't know. So in a way, Jay kind of became like a father figure to me. And because of that, seeing how far he's come even while facing so many obstacles... I'm proud of him and well- being his brother, I want to make him proud, too."

Observing Drake's gaze lower to the floor, the softening of his voice into something vulnerable at every truth... Misty sympathized. Life sure wasn't easy, and never did she think that the two men now traveling with her had suffered such hardships. Life had forced Misty to grow without either parent's presence, but to have a parent who simply refused to fulfill the duties they were not only required, but also should feel compelled to perform... That was a painful reminder in itself, making Misty wonder how damaged the two really were. Not terribly, she assumed, for Drake went ahead and made something of himself without anyone's approval, and as for Jay... Happily ever after was clearly something that forever stayed in storybooks, yet with the way things were beginning to turn for Jay, the girl wished to believe everything would indeed result in a desirable outcome. For everyone...

And yet, even after all those years they struggled throughout their childhood and, to her understanding, hardly spoke to one another in their adult life- the brothers still acted like...brothers. Still cared for one another. There were no obvious verbal cues, only by the way they interacted. The alacrity to help each other.

Their actions.

After a moment of silence passed, Misty's attention drifted away from Jay and back to Drake's unsure eyes.

Then, she smiled. "I think you have."

* * *

"Now, you can handle serving?"

Confident chocolate eyes flashed up at Delia's chestnut hue. Then, a big grin was released. "I've got it Mom, relax. I'll be fine. I've got Dani, remember?" Ash soon gestured, his head motioning to his cousin beside him.

Delia grinned back at her son's eagerness. "Yes well, use her to shadow as much as you need to."

"I will."

Ash had volunteered to lend a hand willingly, and in doing so, had to send Pikachu to Prof. Oak's lab until he was through with his shift. As much as the trainer wished to have the mouse on his shoulder, he couldn't be there in a kitchen; while he was perfectly up to date with vaccinations, his presence violated a health code which Ash couldn't argue. Nonetheless, Delia was full of pride to see her son step up to the plate, and not only put forth some community service, but help his family's business.

And on Ash's part, it was a good distraction for him to accept Misty's inability to come and visit for a few weeks. To stop wondering as to why it had bothered him so much earlier that morning... As to why it faintly hurt him.

Sucking in a breath, Delia motherly rubbed her son's shoulder. "Thank you again, honey. For helping out."

"I'm glad to," he replied, receiving a handful of menus from Dani.

"If either of you need anything I'll be working the front counter," the woman reminded, beginning the start of her journey to her destination.

Ash nodded. "Okay."

"Thanks," Dani said to her aunt.

In return, Delia nodded again, and gave them one last faint wave before venturing to the small crowd waiting by the front desk. Just by the handful of townsfolk roaming into the dining hall, Dani was relieved it wasn't too large of a demanding crowd. It was still a job to be taken seriously, however, without the temptation to lazily serve. Once Delia strolled a good distance from them, Dani turned to her cousin and held up her share of the evenly stacked menus.

"All right, ready to get started?" she asked, tucking the menus to her side.

"Oh, yeah!" exclaimed Ash enthusiastically.

Looming her green eyes across the room, most customers already had servers attending to their famished needs. Only one party in particular was lonesome without anyone taking their orders. So, Dani stepped in. "I'll take this couple and you can take the next. Okay?" she said, not wanting to spring it on her cousin right away.

The teenager agreed to her proposal without a fuss. "Sounds good."

So with their agreement established, Dani too made her exit, and with a pleasant demeanor, came up to the elderly couple whose expressions seemed to lighten at her presence. Ash smiled at this and silently went by waiting, his fingers tapping on the plastic lining shielding the pristine quality of the printed menus. He watched the dining room and all its hustling in boredom, keeping himself mindlessly entertained as he waited for his own group to serve. He was astonished, however, to earn a table so quickly in a matter of minutes. And the person he specifically would have to bring a meal and drink to.

"Well, well, well, would you look at that! Look who's gonna serve us!"

That voice alone sent a chill up Ash's spine. _Oh, no, _he thought with a gulp. Oh no, indeed. Was _he_ really here? _Now_? At a time where Ash wished to help out? Keeping his cool and focus, Ash forced a smile to grow from his lips, turning around as he tried to bear the interactions to come. There he was with his spiky hair and wearing a smug smile while somehow shining with a brilliant glow of confidence. Sneaking up so quietly behind Ash's back.

"Hey, Gary," he called back weakly, seeing his old rival before him. He couldn't tell whether Gary's tone was condescending or simply playful, but either way Ash felt unnerved. On the contrary, he was glad to see a genuinely friendly face next to Gary. Ash's smile grew at Harper's presence. "Hi, Harper," he waved.

The dark green haired girl waved in return. "Hi, Ash. We came for lunch as I promised. And can I say, that this place looks great?" she gushed sincerely, admiring the decor surrounding her. "Your mom has excellent taste."

"Thanks. I'll tell her you said that," promised Ash, his nerves relaxing a little at the ease of the conversation. Then, his eyes trailed to the dining area, hoping to spot a free table. And thankfully, he did. "Uh, I'll lead the way to your table," he said, gesturing for them to move first.

The available table was close to the front windows, its seating showcasing an ideal view of the flourishing flower garden engulfing the front of the property. Harper appeared even more mesmerized by the sight alone, and Gary seemed to gloat silently to himself, as if he had taken his girlfriend to the quintessential date spot for an exceptional lunch. After the pair was seated, they scooted their chairs near each other, their hands tightly bound together on the table as Ash handed them their menus.

"And here are your menus," he said, slightly reaching over the table.

"Thank you," Harper said, placing it in front of her.

Ash rubbed his hands together out of anxiety as Harper and Gary's gazes were now fixated on the listing of options before them. It was strange for Ash to vividly see Harper and Gary interact, for it to be firmly cemented in his mind that they were a couple, that they were holding hands...

"So I can give you guys a few minutes to think about what you'd like," Ash spoke up, now leaning his hands on the empty chair in front of him.

"That would be great," replied Harper.

And with that, Ash thought everything was settled. He believed he could walk away and give himself a minute to breathe, to process it all, to hopefully _not_ screw up somehow in front of Gary... Or so he thought. With a sudden snapping of fingers and a demand for Ash to halt, the teenager turned in his tracks and looked to none other than Gary.

"Hold on a minute, Ashy," he called, his tone clearly demonstrating a more so disdainful sound. "Harper's menu is upside down," he pointed out, his forehead wrinkling. "You don't seriously expect her to read it that way, do you?"

Immediately, Ash felt his face flush, embarrassment rising. "Oh uh, no," he responded, his insecurities getting to him as he approached the table once more. "Sorry 'bout that." Being called the dreaded name "Ashy" he received as a kid was not helping one bit. All it brought back were memories of being kicked off the jungle gym at school and no access to Gary's enormous tree house.

Seeing his nervous state, Harper simply smiled back and thought nothing of it. "It's all right. No big deal at all. I was going to flip it myself, anyway." In all honesty, she would have preferred if Gary said nothing to begin with. It was such a minimal issue that she even debated about defining it _as _an issue. And she sure didn't understand why Gary had suddenly demanded for it to be fixed, why he was acting so...snobbish. And why did he feel compelled to call Ash by a pet name he appeared not to favor? Shaking her confused thoughts off, Harper watched Ash stroll away again, and then her eyes flashed over to her still smirking boyfriend.

"What was that about?" she asked, extremely perplexed.

"Ah, nothin'," Gary shrugged off, picking up the small dessert menu off the center of the table. "Ash and I have had a history since we were kids," he began to elucidate, his eyes skimming the front and back of the plastic lined paper. "He's always been jealous of me so sometimes we don't see eye-to-eye on certain things. But it's all in good fun."

If only that was true.

* * *

"Are you okay?"

He took a long slurp from a can of orange soda, crushing the metal just slightly in his grasp as he swallowed it all in one big gulp.

"I don't know," breathed Ash, eyes gleaming down at the kitchen floor as he leaned against the cabinets.

Entering the kitchen, Ash had appeared to be in a huff, keeping to himself as he moped silently about his internal woes. Dani, already finishing her round of taking drinks out to her table, saw her slumped cousin as she walked back into the bustling area, concern sweeping across her face. When she left him, Ash was rather chipper and willing to the idea of serving. Now he seemed distant and...irritated about something. Cocking a suspicious eye, Dani did some investigating as she approached him. But apparently, he wasn't really in a talking mood.

Dani frowned. "What's the matter?"

He glanced up to her with an incredulous expression. "You didn't see?"

"Apparently not," she concluded. "What's the problem?"

A stern stare flashed its way at the curious girl. "Gary," Ash answered bitterly, more dents forming across the design ridden can. "That's what."

"You're serving _Gary_?" echoed Dani, eyes wide and full of shock.

The breeder in the making had heard of Gary's arrival back home, and even saw him pass by on occasion in town. But they never made any effort to start a conversation with one another. After all, while Ash had described to his cousin of Gary's major leap in maturity, Dani was still not fully keen on accepting Gary with arms wide open. She still held her doubts about the spiky haired boy, the recollections of his mischief and mayhem never leaving the back of her mind. Gary Oak had caused too much grief to be in her good graces, and clearly, he was proving himself quite well to her definite assumptions of his character.

"Yeah, and his girlfriend," continued Ash, sighing from the embarrassment of it all.

In pure amazement Dani's eyebrows rose, then lowered, as she started to ponder. Gary had a girlfriend? Like Ash, Dani went through a similar mental process of the news, considering how it made sense for Gary to attract the opposite sex…but then it didn't. She figured there must be someone out there for everyone to love, especially if Gary had grown up and was determined to make himself a better person. And yet, even after Ash had shared with her he and his old rival's mutual understanding, that they could at least respect one another as acquaintances…why was Ash so upset _if_ things _had_ changed? Evidently, one of them took a giant step back and, biased or not, Dani assumed whom it was.

"And I'm guessing he's being a pill as usual?" she soon hypothesized, folding her arms over her chest.

Ash huffed. "That's one way of putting it."

"Well, is _she_ at least nice?"

It was one thing if Gary was causing havoc, but if he_ and_ his girlfriend were on a high of ridiculing...that was something Dani didn't want to imagine.

Thankfully, her cousin flashed a calmer shade of hue in his eyes. "Oh, yeah. She's fine. I just don't get why she's with him," he stated with a shrug.

Neither did Dani. Even at that, she tried not to feed too much into the drama, considering they were working, and that what the guests needed was highly more important than whatever nonsense Gary was brewing.

Being sympathetic, though, Dani's eyebrows lowered again. "I'm sorry, Ash. I don't think we can switch tables without it looking like a huge deal-"

"It's okay, Dani," he quickly assured with a half-smile. "I just needed a minute to cool off." And he did take a minute to cool off, taking a few deep breaths in and out through his nostrils. If Ash had matured in any mental form, he was learning how to control his temper and his compulsive need to prove his former rival wrong on every occasion he could get. After all, Ash had learned that those petty squabbles got neither of them anywhere.

As he straightened his back, rising from the slouched position he was in against the cabinets, Ash kept reminding himself just that. "Well," he started with a warmth of dry humor, "I better go and see what his royal highness wants."

Gently, Dani caught him by the arm and played along. "I'll pray for you," she said.

Ash smiled at this, and left the safe corridors of the kitchen.

As he moseyed back into the dining room, his thoughts tried their hardest to stay positive, approaching the table with a fresh start. His face had appeared much less flushed than before, his voice lowering back to an even level. As if nothing ever happened.

"Okay," he started with a friendly tone, "so have you guys decided yet?"

But all he got was a classic: "Humph! Took you long enough. We've been waiting here for nearly ten minutes. Did your bathroom break take longer than you expected?"

Instantly, Ash bristled, his teeth clenched together in a tight hold. _First of all, I DIDN'T have a bathroom break. I was in the kitchen, trying to shake off the urge to demand you to a Pokémon battle so I could finally put you in your place. And why are you being so rude anyway, Gary? What the heck did I do to you? _

Instead, as the evolving teenager, trainer, and now waiter the young man was trying to be, Ash withheld his tongue…for the most part. "Why don't you just order something already, Gary?" he retorted, his voice on the edge of annoyance.

And Gary picked up on it. "No need to get testy, Ashy. I was just about to get to that. But out of curiosity, what would you recommend? You _can_ read, can't you?" he added with a sneer, pointing to the menu's content.

At that instant, Ash decided to create his own original poker face. Though he had attempted to do so many times before on several different occasions it would always well- break. However, he was putting his stubbornness to good use, adamant in not letting any silly little remark get the best of him.

"I'd recommend the bacon cheeseburger," he replied plainly.

"Why?" asked Gary again, with another punch of sarcasm in his tone.

"'Cause it's good," Ash shrugged, finding it ridiculous to even explain.

"How, Ash? _How_ is it good?"

The nasally sound he made with the word "how" made another sharp tingle travel up Ash's back as he resisted the urge to wrinkle his forehead, narrow his brows, or any other kind of gesture Gary was likely to see. Though Harper was picking up on Ash's stiff stance and suddenly advised for the tomfoolery to cease.

"Stop it, Gary," she hissed in a stern whisper. "There's no need for it."

"Everything you need to know about it is on the menu," Ash went on, reminding that the description of the item itself was already listed for the guest to read.

With another huff, however, Gary tossed the menu down lightly on the table and folded his arms. "Fine. Don't fulfill your duties as a waiter," he snubbed, as if something was Ash's fault. "I suppose I could order the bacon cheeseburger with fries on the side. And you, my sweet?" said Gary, turning to Harper with a gentler but ever obnoxious tone.

With a tightening of his muscles, Ash bit down on his tongue. Listening to Gary call his girlfriend by a pet name was not at all endearing but so nauseating Ash wanted to vomit.

"I'll have the garden salad," Harper replied, handing both her and Gary's menus back to Ash. "Balsamic vinaigrette, please."

"Okay," he noted, tucking the menu's underneath his arm. From there, he reached for a pad and pen out of his front pocket, jotting down the notes so he wouldn't forget. The last thing he needed was for Gary to give him a rough time about failing to remember the dressing or his precious fries.

Though thinking such only led to another unexpected jeer.

"Ya gotta write that all down so you don't forget, Ash?"

Gary's comment led to Ash's hand freezing across the paper, his face beginning to scrunch in vexation. However, he redirected his anger onto the paper, scribbling in the last notes fast and furiously. "Would either of you like an appetizer?" he soon breathed, regaining his controlled mannerisms.

"I suppose we each can try one," Harper replied, liking the sound of the idea. "Are they fairly small?"

"Yeah. They're pretty small."

"Okay. I'll try the fried stuffed mushrooms then," she answered, hoping her upbeat voice would lighten the tension. "And you Gary?"

"I'll have the stuffed bell peppers," he responded, leaning back in his chair.

"All right. And do you want anything to drink besides water?" Ash made sure to ask, finishing up the last bit of the order.

"I could go for an iced raspberry tea," answered Harper again, thinking the sound of something fruity and cold would quench her thirst in such a warm summer setting.

"And I'll stick with water," Gary jumped in, now leaning his elbows on the table as his high and mighty hand gestures did the talking- along with his mouth. "Preferably, I'd like lemon water. Just make sure there isn't a bunch of pulp and seeds floating in my drink. I would hate to choke on that," he added, sticking his nose up in the air…as he always did.

The sound of his voice caused the dark haired teenager to scribble again. _I wouldn't,_ grumbled Ash silently.

And with that, Ash was grateful Gary didn't make another outrageous request or throw more demeaning questions at him. Somehow, as Ash stormed back into the kitchen, he managed through it. Most of his time he spent quietly brooding as he waited for the first half of the order. But then, on the contrary, he tried to forget about the smug look Gary bore. Though that was impossible. It seemed that would forever be drilled into Ash's head. Along with his need to stick his nose up in the air as if he was a spoiled prince turning away a reasonable sum of cash or a deal among alliances…or a perfectly good meal.

_You're doing okay Ash, _the teenager coached himself as he skillfully carried a tray full of appetizers and drinks._ Just ignore whatever Gary has to say. Do NOT let him get to you. There's no reason to make a scene… _

As his footsteps made their way ever so close to the table, Ash grinned and bared the torture once again. "Here are your drinks and appetizers," he said, setting the tray down carefully.

Gary leaned forward and gave Ash a critical look. "You don't have to announce everything, Ash. We have perfectly good eyes." Such exceptional eyes, Gary lifted up the water glass that was designated just for him, scanning it over as he rotated the full glass in his grasp. "Hmm..."

Ash recognized that "hmm" and cringed.

"What?" he snarled in annoyance.

"This glass is awfully cloudy. I can hardly see my reflection through it." Then from there, the overly picky teenager took a sip, paused, and placed his clear cup back down. "And this water is lukewarm."

Ash scoffed by his claim. "There's ice in it, Gary-"

"Yes, but it's half-melted. Can I have a new drink? If it's not too much trouble," he dared to throw in, as if he was genuinely concerned his request was a touch on the absurd side.

With every word Gary spoke, Ash literally felt that the corners of his mouth would have to be physically lifted to create a fake grin one more time. "Of course not," he answered, biting back with his own hint of derision. "What color straw would you like?" Ash asked sarcastically; it wouldn't astound him if that was the next question his old rival would dare to pose.

Instead, the brunette scoffed. "That's an irrelevant question, Ashy."

Another trigger was set off, having Ash stomp back to the kitchen once more in a mild fit. Once he entered, he rather violently turned on the faucet to let the water run to a more "chilling" temperature. Then, he tore open the freezer, angrily smashing the heavy ice bag on the clean counter.

_Your glass is too cloudy, your ice is half melted, your water is too lukewarm- What is your problem?! _ the confused trainer declared, shoving a handful of ice into Gary's now packed glass._ Last time I checked we were on okay terms! Was it something I did? Was it something I said? Or are you just up to your old tricks again? I should have known it was too good to be true… _

At this rate, Ash was convinced that wishing for things to be simpler would take more than seeing a glimmer of hope on Gary's part. Apparently, he wasn't through with his critical analysis of Ash, and as to why the trainer did not know. It came too out of the blue, and the last time Ash recalled an interaction between them, they were on good terms. No reason to spark an argument.

So why now of all days?

"Here."

The sloshing of the cold water inside the glass and the colliding of its bottom against the tabletop caused Gary to raise a brow. Then, he glanced up and formed another mocking smile up at the fed-up waiter.

"Oh, so now you've just shortened your grand announcement to 'here'? With a slam to boot? Very primal of you, Ash," denigrated Gary once again and soon his mind was filled with another enticing jab. The color of his straw was blue, and Gary kept on smiling at that. "And I thought you would have got me green straw- with _envy_," he empathized for some reason as he purposely wrapped his arm around his girlfriend's shoulders. Though to his amazement, she drew back, giving him a rather disapproving and unhappy look. Even at that, he brushed it off and continued. He wasn't going to let Ash walk away that easily. "Oh, and before you go, I need you to take this appetizer back."

Swiveling on his feet, Ash twirled around. His eyes faded to a darker hue as he watched Gary hold the small platter up high as if he was making a statement.

"What's wrong with it?" Ash dared to ask, and was frankly, afraid to hear his answer.

"The pepper is a little underdone and the rice is _definitely_ underdone," stressed Gary.

"Define _underdone_, Gary," the dark haired teenager snapped once more.

"It's too stiff and chewy. I can't possibly eat it. It would be just terrible if I chipped a tooth on a piece of undercooked rice, eh Ashy?"

Another twitch occurred near a chocolate eye. _I could just throw it in the blender for you to drink, and THEN you don't have to chew! Or would you prefer for ME to chew it for YOU and I can spit it back on your plate?! _

Begrudgingly, Ash restrained his need for his vocal cords to scream. "Fine."

So for a third time, Ash marched right back into the kitchen, slamming the swinging doors open as he searched for Michelle in a sea of white garments. He had located her quickly, finding her stirring some kind of dark sauce and adding an assortment of natural seasonings to enhance the flavor. She was about to taste her final product that very moment when she felt a sudden tap on her shoulder. Swiftly she turned to Ash with a startled stare, her finger pointing down at the platter before her.

"What's this?" she asked, her voice quick, near panic-like.

"The appetizer is underdone," Ash replied bluntly.

Silence fell, all the workers freezing as they gawked at their stunned employer.

Michelle was gob-smacked. She had never had food sent back. _Ever_. Not under her supervision or by her very own hand. It was miraculous claim. Never in the history of her working there, not even her first day with Leah's mother forty-odd years ago, was Michelle's food ever sent back. Cooking was her passion, her livelihood, the thing she woke up in the morning for, and she was utterly determined to make every plate she sent out the best possible. So the person eating could enjoy and rave about every morsel of it. She nearly looked stunned as Ash held the hardly touched platter before her, eyes wide and mouth open.

"What? Not this appetizer?" she began her hysterical rant subtly. Her voice and facial expression quivered with every word. "No, this appetizer is _fine_-"

"I know it is. But he says it's not. Please don't make me go out there with it again, Michelle," Ash unexpectedly begged, befuddling the head chef even more. "Just make him a new one so he'll quit complaining."

"Who's complaining?" she demanded to know, placing her hands on her curvy hips.

"Gary."

"Gary who?"

"_The_ Gary."

Michelle's mouth dropped open. "That- that little punk thinks that this _five _star quality food is underdone?" she hollered, her index finger firmly pointing to the work of art she created merely minutes ago. "_My_ food that was praised by one of Kanto's top critics? Really? What culinary degree does he have? What do you guys think?" she spouted off, turning to her entire staff, then back to Ash. "Is this underdone? Is it?!"

With a fast hand, she snatched up one of the beef and rice filled little devils, shoving towards Ash's mouth as he haphazardly caught it between his teeth. He was busy chewing a mouthful, nodding as every delicious flavor hit his tongue. It was not "stiff" or "too chewy." It was tenderly cooked, with a kick of various spices mingling across Ash's tongue. There was nothing wrong with it.

"No. It tastes fine," he answered, his words muffled with every crunch.

Michelle spread her arms open, bewildered that someone would even make such an accusation. "Exactly! Exactly! Who does he think he is coming in and telling _me_ my food isn't up to par for his taste-buds, which are probably the equivalent of an eight year old's! But fine," she said with an obvious snarl of sarcasm, taking a pan off the rack and to the free section of the large stove. "I'll waste _more_ ingredients and make a new batch for his ungrateful little mouth. I don't mind at all!"

Her last yell echoed off the kitchen walls, causing everyone to go timidly back to their work or assure her with careful words of reassurance. Ash had _never_ seen Michelle become so unglued before. So upset doing the one thing she loved most. Nor did he think she'd handle a pan in a way that made him afraid his face would be smashed into it by her absentminded swing…or that someone without a professional and experienced taste for flavor would condemn her food for its minimal flaws. She usually took criticism well but this…it was the work of Gary Oak.

Eventually he sighed and glared at the "underdone" stuffed peppers, his ears picking up bits and pieces of Michelle's continued rambling rant of rage.

Ash hated to be the bearer of bad news.


	10. Fickle Love

**Author's Note: **The last couple of weeks have been super crazy busy for me. XD I was able to see Phantom of the Opera live for a second time (which was a real treat), and have been balancing school in between my recreational activities. And I'm so glad it's the weekened. LOL.

Anyway, thank you to all who reviewed chapter nine: **Spruceton Spook**, **jg13145**, **KaliAnn**, and **guest Marie**. I appreciated all the kind and in-depth feedback more than I can express! All the positivity definitely helps motivate me and I'm so glad to hear you guys are enjoying the story. And thank you to those who sent me well wishes on my midterms and finals. I really appreciate it! :) Midterms went over very well thankfully, and finals is coming up soon. College has been absolutely wonderful, just a lot to take on. But that's obviously expected. ^^; Only two more weeks of college then I will be free for the summer! :) If only it would come sooner, haha. Also, chapters 11 and 12 are now in the editing process with my beta reader, while I'm working on 13. Hopefully, chapter 11 will be up sometime in June!

**And on a last note, if you haven't gotten a chance to vote the poll is still open on my profile!**

**DISCLAIMER: **_Pokémon_ belongs to Satoshi Tajiri. My oc's belong to me. Sonnet 18: _Shall I Compare Thee to a Summer's Day?_ belongs to William Shakespeare. You will understand its mention soon enough. ;)

* * *

**Sunlight's Return**

**Chapter 10**

_Fickle Love_

Something didn't feel right.

Harper, who had never seen such a contemptuous side of her boyfriend before, was beside herself. Yes, she could admit that Gary was capable of being boastful and that his confidence sometimes struck a wrong cord in others in their research course. But the Gary Oak she got to know over the last couple of months...he was courteous, clever, and a delight to chat with in regards to their studies. Harper felt she was on the same level as him, not one above the other. He was proud of his accomplishments but admired hers with respect and an eagerness to know more about her. She liked that about Gary, liked that part of him enough to accept his first invitation to dinner and a movie. However... Why was he suddenly picking on Ash? Up to this point, Gary had spoken casually about his old rival, nothing more than that he was a trainer, his appearance, and overall personality. Harper never got the vibe that they were close friends, but still, she didn't think they had such animosity toward one another. Especially on Gary's part.

All of these remarks, unnecessary trips Ash made to better Gary's dining experience- Harper didn't understand any of it. This person wasn't anything like the Gary Oak she knew. And she was beginning to feel horrible for a frustrated Ash. The dark haired teenager's winning smile equaled his friendly disposition. She saw nothing wrong with Ash, nothing that would rub her the wrong way. He was welcoming and easy to talk to. However, now with tensions rising, Harper was extremely perplexed and displeased with her boyfriend's actions. Had Ash done something to him in the past to make him behave so poorly? Or was she missing something entirely...?

Not too many minutes passed before Ash returned again with a new plate of stuffed bell peppers. His flustered and irritated expression had not vanished, and as he drew closer to the table, Harper dreaded another confrontation. So, with the kind heart she had, she tried to lighten the situation for an ever awkward Ash.

"Hey Ash," she called in a pleasant tone, beaming a small smile at him. "I didn't see Pikachu around. Is he not with you or something?" she asked casually, trying to strike up a conversation that, she believed, would cause no verbal skirmish.

Ash blinked, subconsciously appreciating the change in topic. "Actually, I had to leave him at Prof. Oak's lab," he explained, his face slowly brightening as he placed the plate on the table. "He can't be here while I'm working in the kitchen 'cause it's like a health violation."

"Oh, I see. Well, that's good of you as a trainer," she commented kindly, trying to make up for it all. "You're really responsible and I appreciate you, um- going to all this trouble. For putting up with Gary's…quirks," summed up Harper, eyes subtly lingering to her quiet boyfriend who was catching onto her choice of words speedily.

Instantaneously, Gary's brow furrowed, seeing his girlfriend excusing his "behavior" and then at the faint streak of blush crossing Ash's face. Soon, the dark haired teenager wore that grin that seemed to be infectious to all… Harper grinned warmly back at Ash's brilliant glow.

And Gary frowned.

"Thanks, Harper. That's nice of-"

"I'm surprised that you don't have Pikachu with you, too, Ashy," Gary abruptly butted in, his cheeky smile sprouting as he cleverly devised a new tactic.

A wince and biting of the lip came on Harper's part, slowly narrowing brows looking to her boyfriend with disapproval. She now knew that smile too well not to suspect foul play, fearing what was to come next.

"You two are practically inseparable after all. But I guess it's no surprise considering he's all ya got," added Gary with a slight jab, hurting Ash's pride as if he was so low and pathetic his only company were those who bore tails and couldn't speak English. Not that Ash minded befriending Pokémon...but he had plenty of friends his own kind! Still, Gary carried on ever so boldly. "It's not like you have a_ girlfriend_ anyway. You don't_ have_ a girlfriend, right Ash?" he decided to double-check, though Ash was fully aware it was simply a way of pressing his buttons. As if he was missing out on some astronomical relationship that Gary was lucky to be indulging in.

Yet, Ash tried not to take the bite.

"No," the dark haired teenager answered sharply, his right eye slightly twitching.

This just made Gary huff with another smirk. "I figured. But then again, I could have sworn you were having some kind of fling with that redhead. What was her name again?" he pursued, pretending as if he couldn't recall her by her actual name.

A low groan wanted to be set free from Ash's mouth so badly he had to resist the temptation. Too many thoughts and actions existed within his annoyed mind, as if a devil and angel-like figure sat on each of his shoulders, telling him how to respond. Yet, he attempted once again to stay even, though the furrowing of Ash's eyebrows could not be helped. "I'm not with Misty," he replied sourly, knowing exactly whom Gary was mentioning.

"Oh, that's right!" exclaimed the brunette, snapping his fingers. His sarcasm was getting old. "_Misty_. How she's doin' anyway? Finally making something of herself? Maybe she got a makeover that she was desperately in need of, too. And a _boyfriend_. Does that make you jealous, Ash? I bet it does," Gary presumed with a sneer.

Ash's chocolate eyes turned a darker shade as his cheeks reddened. "_What_ did you say?" he asked in a low growl.

"Did I hit a sore spot?" he continued to badger, acting as if he cared for his actions. "I'm sorry, Ash. I had no idea Misty was your wench."

The sly creeping of Gary's mischievous eye and smile made Ash's blood boil, his fists clenched tight at his sides. The anger he was withholding the entire time was now boiling and bubbled over with an aggravated snarl. It was a flash of an expression similar to what Gary used to see when they were kids. When he riled Ash up over sensitive subjects.

"How dare you!" suddenly spat Ash, though he tried to keep his voice lowered before drawing unwanted attention. "Misty's _not_ a wench!"

Gary simply scoffed. "Do you even know what wench means? Do I need to define it for you? A wench is a politically-correct term for a, well..." His pompous tone and expression dissipated for a moment, as if he was about to choose his words carefully. Then, another smug smirk slipped. "What your _mom_ is," he couldn't help but giggle so snobbishly, knowing very well of its effects. "The _town tart_-"

"Stop talking about Misty like that!" Ash lashed out again, furry burning inside. "You have no right to spout things off about her that aren't even true. And leave my mom out of this! She is _not_ a..."

Thinking of the connotation Gary was implying, Ash kept his mouth shut, unable to even utter such a disgusting and untrue insinuation. Throwing out hurtful words about Misty was infuriating to Ash, but for Gary to go as far as _outwardly_ claiming his _mother_ to be the opposite of what she was... It made Ash sick to his stomach, and he wasn't going to stand by and allow his old rival to speak such distasteful lies.

Waiting for a response, Gary egged him on. "What? Can't even say the truth, Ash?"

"My mother _isn't_ a whore and I'd appreciate it if you'd treat her with more respect," snapped back the dark haired teenager, the burning anger he was feeling inside spewing vividly for Gary to physically see.

Another arrogant chuckle leaped from the brunette's throat. "Or what?" he dared to retort.

"Or I'll knock your front teeth out," Ash threatened, his facial expressions morphing rapidly into bold and unmovable seriousness.

Gary indulged in this. "Ooo, so you're gonna use brute strength to solve your problems? Again, how very primal of you, Ash."

"I swear to God, Gary-"

"Enough! What is the matter with you?" cried Harper, pulling on his arm for attention. With a flash of surprised eyes, Gary looked to his girlfriend who appeared both addled and vexed by his behavior. "Why are you acting like this? This isn't you! And _people_ are starting to stare," she noted sharply, her voice lowering as she spotted more pairs of eyes falling upon them. Then, she ignored Gary before he could give an answer, looking to Ash with a heavily implied sympathetic look. "I am so sorry, Ash-"

"Forget it," he cut her off harshly, turning on his heels. "I'll get your damn food and then you can leave."

And with that, Ash left them in their awkward silence. He stormed off just as infuriated as he appeared, leaving Harper severely unnerved. At this point, she didn't know what to think of anything- of why Gary could say such hurtful and uncalled for remarks. Utterly baffled, the girl turned to her boyfriend for some kind of answer, completely stunned and dumbfounded by the exchange and its raw content. "What's with you, Gary? Why would you say that to Ash? I don't understand any of this," she at last declared, desperate for the truth.

Gary just huffed. "'Cause it's true. Don't get all funny about it, Harper. You don't know the half of it," he barked back, acting as if she had somehow misunderstood the entire situation.

Harper's brows creased. "How can I not?"

* * *

Frustration continued to consume Ash as he marched back into the kitchen.

Leaning against the counter once more, waiting for their main meal to be completed, Ash slouched with another mental huff. None of it made sense to the trainer. Not one bit of the interaction. It was disappointing to say the least, considering Ash had believed he and Gary had made progress in mending their rivalry and accepting each other for who they were. But apparently, Ash was missing something. Something that must have set Gary off. He wasn't sure what it was, and no matter how hard he tried to figure it out, the young man couldn't. And he knew simply asking Gary wouldn't solve the problem at all. A straightforward solution it would be but there was no doubt Gary wouldn't buy into it, and would continue to leave Ash in the dark.

_Gary had no right to call Misty OR Mom that, _he thought passionately, irritation beginning to ignite once more._ And what's with all this boyfriend and girlfriend crap he keeps throwing around? I could care less if he has a girlfriend. Though God only knows why she's with him… _

Then at the closing of his inner dialogue, the creation of a near-equally mischievous and malicious idea sprouted in Ash's mind. A diced-up habanero pepper sat in a cluster of various other peppers on the counter, most likely to be used in a dish, for they were all washed and prepped. Ash recalled Delia mentioning the hotness of some peppers, remembering a time when he watched her prepare a meal for guests at the very same establishment. This pepper in particular had a high intensity of heat; it was still not the hottest of all, but his mother had warned him that only a dash of it was needed for someone to fully feel the power of its fiery flavor.

Beside the cutting board covered in colorful peppers, there was a raw ball of beef untouched with a tag sitting beside it, as well as a half-dressed salad… Ash's eyes widened, the idea now blooming as he looked to a mixing bowl nearby. Sneakily, the trainer glanced to his right then to his left, making sure not one set of eyes was watching him. Then, without much consideration or debate of his actions, Ash swiftly scooped up a helping of the diced peppers, and in a flash his hand dove inside the mixing bowl. Hurriedly, he combined the ingredients, mashing them into the sculpted patty without any bits obviously showing through. He tried his best to shape it as Delia had taught him, looking about and still finding the sous chefs and Michelle busily working on other meals. Soon, however, a couple of other waiters entered the kitchen causing Ash to draw his filthy hands away and wash them under hot soapy water. Unsuspected eyes looked to him, and he returned their acknowledgement with a weak grin.

If he was lucky, no one had paid an ounce of attention to him, and when that patty hit the grill with a little reshaping, Ash realized that not a single person had suspected him of foul play. A sous chef was finishing the rest of the job, and Ash would have sworn if Michelle was the one to get her hands on the beef patty she would have noticed his trickery in a second. Yet, the presence of the spicy peppers went unnoticed and soon it was dressed and put on a perfectly displayed plate for Ash to deliver. As the tray sat in his grasp, he couldn't believe what he had just done. Still, he wasn't remorseful enough to correct his actions, and went ahead with both burger and salad in tow to the awaiting table. The vindictive words falling from Gary's mouth, targeting the two people he cared for deeply…it was the last straw.

Walking to the table with newfound confidence, Ash placed the orders before the customers. Harper seemed delighted with her veggie-filled lunch, while Gary silently scrutinized his plate before shooting a look up at Ash.

"Hmm… Everything seems to be in order," noted Gary, counting all the condiments on his juicy, steaming burger.

Ash went on smiling, resisting the urge to let his wicked giddiness show through grinning teeth. "Good to know. And by the way, Gary, I took note to give you extra pickles since you commented on someone_ else's_ burger across from you appearing to be- what did you say? _Underwhelming_."

Gary raised a dubious brow at him. "Why did you listen to my input?"

"'Cause it's good to take constructive criticism," replied Ash, unfazed by Gary's watchful eyes.

And it was apparently enough for the brunette to form another assured smirk. "Well, the customer is always right. Isn't that the policy around here anyway?" he threw back.

A quiver of his lip caused Ash's smile to slip. "Most of the time," he grumbled.

"What was that?"

"Oh, nothing!" Rubbing the back of his guilty head, a nervous laugh fell from Ash's mouth. Then, he tried to cover his tracks. "Just taking in your many recommendations, Gary."

"Since when?" snorted the brunette.

The interrogation and constant watchfulness in Gary's eyes didn't ease Ash's nerves. Knowing his luck, Gary would magically catch on and want his burger inspected regardless if Ash accidentally spilled any questionable hints or not. However, he seemed to stay fairly composed, backing up with the tray in his grasp as he gave one last wave. "Since now," he answered quickly, strolling away. "Enjoy your lunch, guys."

Two sets of eyes remained fixated on Ash as he rounded the corner, and soon they glanced at each other in unison. "Well, that sure was a change in attitude," commented Harper, rattling her addled mind all the more. Maybe Ash was simply being the bigger person, dismissing Gary's behavior...that or he was patronizing him. Either way, the girl believed her boyfriend should say _something_ to reconcile the uncalled-for mess. "Don't you think you owe him an apology?" she asked, hinting he should do so.

However, Harper's boyfriend just brushed it off. "I owe Ash nothing. Now let's eat already. I'm starving! It took them forever to get it out here."

Anxious hands picked up the full burger, his nose taking in the pleasant scent of the thin patty and all its neatly tucked-in contents. From there, mouth and burger met each other, a big chomp being taken out of the sandwich, and soon the chewing process began. The flavors were incredible; the qualities of the vegetables were of the finest; crisp, cool, and fresh. The bun was firm and thick on the outside, but soft on the inside. And the patty itself... It was, at first, the best burger Gary had ever eaten, but as a burning sensation began to take effect, he felt otherwise. Chewing on her second bite of salad, Harper's eyes widened dramatically as she stopped midway with the fork near her mouth. Soon, startled eyes watched Gary's skin turn another shade. His face began to drip with small droplets of sweat, his eyes turning a bright pink, his tear ducks starting to pour. Around his lips a darker hue of pink instantly formed, and inside his tongue burned such a deep intensity, Gary could have sworn someone had lit it on fire.

"Oh my gosh!" exclaimed Harper, watching the effects worsen by the second. "Gary? Gary, are you okay?!"

In response, he released a loud cough, echoing across the room as he splattered the half-chewed contents back on his plate. Watery eyes pathetically looked up to his frightened girlfriend, trying to find the strength to exclaim his dilemma. And soon, it was blurted across the room. "My mouth feels like it's on fire!" he shrieked to her, rising from his seat in dramatic distress. "I need more water, milk, SOMETHING!"

His abrupt hollering led to plenty of guests swiveling in their chairs, talk booming across the room. In a flash, three figures rushed into the dining room in both confusion and alarm. It was Leah, who emerged with the new hired help behind her, and the two stood back and watched as she took charge of the frightening situation. Other waiters and even some guests rose from their seats to analyze the manic behavior and soon Delia too abandoned her post at the front desk and made a mad dash over to a hollering Gary. Ash bit down hard on his lip, still lingering back at the kitchen door. With hesitation, he eventually peeked around the corner, fully seeing the scene he had caused. He didn't have much time for guilt or to even feel the want to relish his victory, for a sudden hand snatched the short sleeve of his shirt, pulling him away from the hysteria to the empty front desk. As he twirled in surprise, Ash found Dani standing before him. Hands placed on her hips as she gave him a big sisterly glare, though it was obvious there was deep concern in her eyes.

"What did you do to Gary's sandwich?" she demanded forcefully, with both sternness and utter shock.

Ash blinked back at her. How did she know? "I put in some diced-up hot peppers and mixed them in his patty when Michelle wasn't looking." Immediately, Dani's forehead creased with wrinkles. She had thought there was something strange on Ash's hands in the kitchen, and now hearing Gary demand for a glass of water... A swift hit on the upper shoulder dove Ash's way. "Ow!" he yelped.

"Ash, are you crazy?" hissed Dani in disbelief, leaning forward in a harsh whisper. "This could hurt their business!"

The teenager wrinkled his forehead, rubbing his arm. "But Michelle didn't do anything."

"Yeah, but she'll probably get blamed for it since she was handling the food! That or one of the sous chefs," sharply reminded his cousin, completely astounded by his form of payback onto Gary. "Did you even think about that?"

He didn't ponder over how his actions would possibly inflict harm onto the people who had nothing to do with the malicious act. And now considering this, Ash felt foolish, but refused to admit it as he retorted in return. "You don't like Gary, either," reminded Ash firmly, folding his arms over his chest.

The lavender haired girl rolled her eyes. "Ash, that's beside the point. This is a business. Our_ family's_ business! You can't ruin their reputation just because of some stupid tiff with Gary-"

"_Ash_."

A motherly stern voice stole the teens' attention, both heads turning to the side. Tapping her foot on the floor with arms crossed over her chest was Delia, appearing rather ticked with a cocking of a brow. "We need to have a word," she demanded, indicating for Dani to leave them be.

Helpless, Ash looked to his cousin, though she swiftly exited to give them privacy, and faintly gave Ash a pitiful look before vanishing. Gulping, Ash turned his timid gaze to his mother, and approached her with an explanation already in the midst of forming. "Mom, listen I-"

"Did you tamper with Gary's burger? Because that's what he thinks."

What was with the accusations? Immediately, Ash bit down his lip, eyes darting away from Delia's stern glare. Great. Just great. Of course he would wind up in trouble. And of course Gary would perceive it to be his fault even though he was asking for it the entire time during their dining experience.

Steadily, Ash looked back to his mom. "...Maybe." Then he sighed, frustration blooming. "But he was asking to have those hot peppers in his burger. He was being an asshole-"

"I don't care if Gary was out of line or not," interrupted Delia. "And did you just say _hot_ peppers?" Now she was going to have someone or herself dig through the sandwich to uncover the supposed peppers, making the matter all the more worse. "And watch your language, young man!" she also scolded, ever more displeased.

An incredulous look was produced from Ash. "When will you stop treating me like I'm ten? I can call Gary whatever I want."

Delia was in disbelief. This wasn't like Ash! At least not in recent years. This angry and frustrated kid...she hadn't seen this side of him since he was in school, before he left for his journey, when all the stresses of family and his peers began to eat away at him till she finally intervened...

"No you can't," argued Delia swiftly. "And if you're going to use that kind of language then you are behaving just as poorly as he is. Now, why did you do it? Besides the obvious," she added with a jab of facetiousness, hinting to the teens' constant fighting since they were old enough to walk and utter scarce words.

Ash paused for a moment, considering how to respond. He was upset, and still perturbed over the unkind remarks about Misty and his mother. He cared for Misty with strong affection, disputing the fact that she was probably his closest friend next to Pikachu- and of course Brock. But she was his first _real_ friend, who, while pointing out everything he did wrong, made him grow, and showed a loving side when desperate times called for it. And as for Delia...Ash respected her. He did. His mistakes and arguments with her were noted, however Ash still respected her highly because she took care of him. Because she raised him. Because _she_ had always been there for him. And because of that, he wasn't going to allow Gary to think he could get away with saying such an inaccurate and offensive comment on her single-parent status.

It was beyond uncalled for, even if it was just to get the best of him. Ash still felt it was a personal attack against his mother.

Huffing loudly, Ash finally blurted the truth. "He was making snide remarks about- certain people, Mom." For some reason, he didn't entail _who_ these people were and honestly didn't want to delve into it without fully losing his cool. "I don't know what his problem is. We've been getting along pretty well. At least that's what I thought!" he went on bellowing, truly befuddled by it all.

Delia's eyes softened briefly. This news wasn't much of a surprise to her; still, she sympathized with her son to a degree. However, too many worries about the banquet and personal stresses in her own life clouded her judgement to fully see reason of Ash's argument. The stress was just too overwhelming to handle all at once. "I'm sorry Gary was giving you a hard time, but that doesn't excuse the fact that you _nearly_ lit his mouth on fire," she reminded, throwing her hands forward for emphasis.

"But Mom-"

"We have a business to run, Ash. We have a dinner coming up for the entire town and we do not need this kind of negative attention after working so hard to get here!"

"I know, Mom! I know! Geez, lighten up!" he groaned, throwing his arms to the side in exasperation.

"I will not 'lighten up'!" countered Ash's mother, growing tired of the back and forth bickering. "This is a serious matter. Your grandmother is spending a good amount of time apologizing and now we have no choice but to allow them not to pay the bill because of their experience," she felt the need to state, pointing towards the dining hall. "This may have been a one-time incident, but it is hurting the business, Ash. And it affects not only us who work here, but the people who come here. Do you understand what I am saying?"

He had not heard such a sharp and peeved tone since- since years ago, making him stir with feelings that were also old, now becoming renewed. It was unfair to him, at least in Ash's eyes, though he understood how vexed Delia deserved to be. If only...if only she had known what Gary said. Would it have changed her mind? At this rate, Ash doubted it. For all Delia appeared to care about was that party he swore was discussed twenty-four seven. Not that he was defending her honor, trying to keep old wounds intact before the scar tore open again...

Eventually with stubbornness, Ash breathed deeply through his nose. "Yes. And I'm sorry, Mom," he apologized softly, gaze focused down on the floor. "Grandma shouldn't have to apologize to him or lose money because of it-"

"You're right. She shouldn't have to," Delia cut in again, her tone not lifting with disappointment. "And to make up for it, I think it's best you work double-time with cleaning dishes. And when you see Gary again, you are going to apologize to him."

Similar to the switching on of a light bulb, Ash's ashamed expression transformed into a defiant one, his head shaking repeatedly with refusal. "No way!" he exclaimed, aghast she'd even suggest such an idea. As far as Ash was concerned, Gary didn't deserve a glass of milk to soothe his blazing mouth nor did the arrogant trainer warrant an apology after the belittling and purposefully rude comments.

But Delia wasn't going to ease up. "_Yes_**, **way. I mean it, Ash. No more of this nonsense. You're too old for it."

The stinging words from his mom left Ash frozen and alone as Delia walked off, traveling back into the dining room to reassess the situation. So submersed in his woes and frustration, Ash didn't even feel the sets of eyes staring at him, and then the pairs gravitated to the strong mother they originally perceived as nothing but Donna Reed the homemaker.

Watching her stroll past them, an impressed whistle flew from James's mouth. "Whoa, mamma-twerp really gave it to him, didn't she?" he remarked, for they had witnessed the entire mother and son squabble.

"She sure did," agreed Jessie, gazing with an amazed look as Delia stormed off. "And apparently, the twerp took note of some of our tactics," she added, recalling the time she and her comrades doused their victory meals after the Indigo League with various hot sauces.

Never did either of them think a sweet-spoken woman such as the twerp's mom would come off so sternly, yet composed all at once. They supposed it was a motherly instinct to redirect her child, and before the pair could dive into the conversation of observing this side of Delia, a presence abruptly stepped behind them and cast a haunting shadow.

"Jessie and James?"

The voice did not sound familiar, but the mere calling of their _real_ names made the disguised couple jump with a tingling rush up their spines. Quickly, Jessie swiveled on her feet and twirled to face what she saw was a man around her age, dressed in regular clothing. He seemed like a normal individual, though something in his eyes left Jessie unsettled. "Uh, I think you're mistaken," she corrected nervously, her voice low and insistent. "_We're_ Jason and Celia-"

Ending her pathetic attempt at identification, the man unexpectedly pulled his right sleeve back, his arm out as he showed a stark black watch before them. And in the center of the dial, behind the hands of the tiny clock, was a bold painted red R beneath. With blank expressions, the agents comprehended the silent exchange.

"Oh, well then," muttered Jessie, a weak grin splitting between her lips.

"What's the trouble?" prompted James, completely lost by the entire turn of events.

The revealed Team Rocket grunt slipped his long sleeve down to cover the dark watch again. Then, his bleak eyes gestured to the front door of the inn. "Come with me, please."

* * *

After sharpening his claws on a nearby stump and grooming his disheveled coat to something-_ less_ disheveled, Meowth ventured inside the barn where the last sighting of his new feline friend took place.

At first glimpse, he could not find her. No tracks of mud-soiled footprints against crinkled hay dispersed on the floor, no shadows against walls of chipped wood. All he discovered were grazing, mooing, or simply snoozing Miltank in the withering structure. One cow in particular having its baby suckle on its plump utters. With dropped ears and a sad expression, Meowth was befuddled as to where she could have gone. Maybe she was just passing by or maybe her residence had moved to another barn. Nevertheless discouraged, Meowth was anxious to continue his search till a creaking sound from above caught his attention. With an open mouth, the cat gawked up at the rafters, finding once again his hopefully future female companion balancing on the shifty boards. In that instance, he felt so silly for not looking there first, and now he was certain his potential love interest definitely had adoration for heights. Watching her balance so easily on those boards, not knowing he was observing her from below, caused the feline to slip a doltish grin, his thoughts instantly trailing to the possibilities of the future.

Meowth knew that his actual job, the one Jessie and James had instructed so crucially for him to follow, was dire to complete. But at the moment, nabbing farm Pokémon sounded a lot less appealing than getting cozy with a fellow cat. After all, a street Meowth and a barn Meowth were likely to have more in common than one of high pedigree. For once, Meowth thought he finally found a furry, cream-colored gal at his level and he wasn't going to dismiss the golden opportunity. Besides, it wasn't as if _the boss_ was in need of their assistance at the present time...

_Just you wait, my sweet kitten! I'm gonna swoon you like you've never been swooned before! _vouched the cat, though quickly an addled expression crossed his face. Then, he blinked._ But how am I gonna do dat? Hmm... I've tried flowers before- and music. And poetry. And de've all ended in failure... _he continued to note bitterly, his doubts beginning to resurface. Then, his expression lightened with a determined glimmer._ But da poet in me cannot stray away from romantic literature nor can my artistic vision be suppressed! Well, here goes notin'. Now, how should this poem start... I know! I'll start with a little Shakespeare!_

Thrilled about the idea, Meowth plopped himself down on a mattress of hay, constructing the soon to be poem in his head. He rested his paw below his chin, thinking thoughtfully has he commenced his mental brainstorm. There was a classic Shakespeare poem in mind that he had always admired, one of the very first poems he had ever heard after first learning human speech. So, he ran with it.

_Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?_ he started silently, feeling the artist in him bloom rapidly. The quick look up to the feline above provided him with all the inspiration he was craving. Then, his first of many silly grins slipped._ For your fur blends with the never-ending fields of growin' swayin' wheat. For your eyes glisten like a rushin' river. For your gold charm glistens with every shinin' ray of sun. Oh my sweet, whatever shall I call you besides the natural wonder dat you are? Da wonder of summer._

Towards the end of it, the cat was actually satisfied and rather surprised with himself to think of a new piece of literature right on the spot. _Ah! Dat sounds pretty_ _good,_ he continued his mental commentary, a vibrant expression glistening off his face._ After all, not all poems have to rhyme to be romantic! And as a bonus, Pikachu ain't around, _the cat noted happily, relief easing his mind and pounding heart._ So dere should be no problem! _

So it wasn't as complex and deep with meaning as Shakespeare's original work, nor was the first line of the poet's famous poem needed to point that out. But it was a masterpiece to Meowth, and he intended to proclaim his words of affection to the long lashed feline whatever the cost may be. Too many times had Meowth come close to developing a romantic relationship till another Pokémon somehow got in the way. His first love traded him in for a nasty street Persian, and then his severely ruined attempt at seducing a Skitty in Johto was fouled up by the many free urban Pokémon roaming the city. And that was a time he _took_ a vacation from Jessie and James. And he was growing older now, not too old, but old enough to admit he couldn't wait around for love forever. Especially one someone who sporadically entered his life...

A nervous gulp glided down Meowth's throat as he gleamed upward again. However, he mustered all the courage he had and went forward with his plans of serenading. _Well, here goes notin'! _

With both nervousness yet a heart full of excitement, Meowth took charge. His legs hurriedly led him to an available and well-timed old wooden ladder. His eagerness only bounded more vigorously, knowing travelling up it was easier than his claws pathetically digging into the supports to reach the very top rafters. Keeping his head held high and with mental repetition of encouraging phrases, Meowth managed to climb halfway up the ladder without faltering. Till a sudden quake below caught the focused cat off guard. Speedily, paws clung firmly to the beams of the ladder, his feet dangling slightly as he held on for dear life. Then, when the wobbling quieted and his gaze was able to focus, Meowth spotted the perpetrator of his misstep below. The lively and blithely baby Miltank the feline acknowledged earlier was ignorantly bouncing about the floorboards, mischievously egging her mother on to join in her harmless play of jumps and bucking of heads. And it seemed that while the mother wasn't fully engaged in the idea, she wasn't disregarding the romping about either.

At the sight of it all, Meowth created an annoyed look and sighed at his still ever present internal struggles. _Even when Pikachu ain't around tings still get messed up- "_Wahaha!"

To no surprise, the not so crafty cat's plan ended with a tumbled downward. With another shake of the floor thanks to both Miltank, the rickety ladder lost its placement, falling backwards as Meowth lost his grip. In a fast collision with the ground, Meowth crashed into a thankfully semi-soft cushioning of hay, straws of the vegetation flying in the air by the impact. His landing buried him in a couple of layers of hay, his fuzzy eyesight barely capturing the silhouette of the angelic cat from above. If his sight was fooling him, Meowth could have sworn she gave him a glance over her thin shoulder before jumping down from the rafters and gracefully exiting the barn.

He just hoped she couldn't make out what he was instead of simply dismissing his painful state. If anything was certain, the thick-boned, round calf took no concern in Meowth's condition, and bounded along gleefully past him as she tried to urge her mother for further engagement.

Meowth released a low pathetic groan as his mind swirled dizzily. "Uggh, maybe I should start with flowers next time..."

* * *

"What do you think this is about, Jess?"

The dark, long hall was dead silent, the only sound being rhythmic footsteps. Then, as they drew closer, the sound of fingers hitting a keyboard. The man who so swiftly escorted Jessie and James out of the inn without any complications remained stoic in both his mannerisms and posture. Jessie eyed him peculiarly several times, but never did he bother to turn his head around to gleam at her. She never liked being out of the loop, and by the looks of how their arrival to headquarters was handled, the outcome was most likely not on the pleasant side. After all, there was only one reason, one_ person_, they would _have_ to see at headquarters.

Repressing a gulp, Jessie's cobalt eyes flashed at her partner momentarily. "I'm not sure," she whispered, now looking forward again. "But just play it cool...again."

This did not assure James at all. Nevertheless, he nodded back and bit down on his lip. "I hope he doesn't scream at us..." he trailed with a pathetic whine.

Not too long after their quiet exchange, the two confused Rocket agents were halted abruptly. Before them and the grunt that ushered them to their new destination lay a large, ominous, dark door. It was too familiar to the bumbling duo for comfort, feeling their pulses rise with every bursting pound as the silent grunt began to turn the eerie doorknob. In one slow swing, the door opened, revealing a not so cheery room. While lights were on, they were awfully dim, and all appliances and presences appeared to be in their useful spots. The phone, while upgraded, lay on the right hand side, and the advanced laptop lay directly in the middle of the tabletop. It was mostly barren, besides a plain Team Rocket calendar, a throw rug of a skinned Ursaring, and a sad potted plant shoved in a corner. Then of course, there was a slinking Persian, looking to Jessie and James with sharp red eyes as a yowl seeped from its furry lips. With its lengthy body, the cat meandered over to its master's chair, nudging his arm with a purring cheek for affection. Instantly, what was something sparkling with a minuscule amount of light turned dull as the infamous Giovanni gleamed upward.

To his recruits.

Jessie and James straightened their stance as their boss turned his attention to them. Then, the silent grunt beside them finally spoke.

"Sir, Jessie and James have arrived," he announced, bowing at the waist.

A soft squeak the enormous chair made as Giovanni swiveled just slightly in his seat, his face its classic humorless and pensive self as he glared blankly at the recruits before him. "You may go now," he said, permitting the grunt to make his exit after successfully fulfilling his duties. Tension rose as the sound of the door clicking shut erupted, leaving Jessie and James ridden with more apprehension, for they were truly alone with their less than thrilled boss. Giovanni hardly appeared moved, as if he was frozen stiff while staring at them with his darkening, piercing eyes. As if scrutinizing them. No longer able to handle the silence, Jessie shakily worked up the courage to speak.

"Uh, boss?" the magenta haired woman started hesitantly. "What is this?-"

"_About_? Why don't you simpletons tell _me_?" the crime boss barked back, rising from his seat as he slammed his open palms on the table. He loomed over his desk with such vexation yet composure all at once. His tall and broad figure bringing about the physical aggression, while his voice somehow remained cool yet still ever so much full of outrage. "You did not show on the date in which you claimed you would arrive at headquarters, and here I had to send an agent out to find you two buffoons!"

With another act of name-calling Jessie and James stumbled back a few feet, their skin covered in goosebumps, their teeth chattering nervously. Swallowing all his anxiety down James attempted to rectify the situation. "We're deeply sorry, sir! But we were in the midst of planning a new scheme-"

"Oh, nonsense!" scoffed Giovanni. "Don't tell me you're still attempting to catch that silly rat! Are _you_?"

They exchanged a glance. Then they paused. Well, technically they had a bigger fish to catch this time around; their main goal not consisting of_ just_ snatching the electric mouse. There was cash too, and the entire Parker farm if they were lucky. But as to Giovanni's statement...

"Um...yes."

Giovanni's frown deepened. His temple ridden with cavernous, peeved wrinkles. "I needed you two for a mission and this is how you act?!" he snarled in frustration. "You both represent the idiocy of our race-"

"A m-mission?" Jessie interrupted with shock, the only word out of his less than encouraging ramble sticking out in her mind.

James blinked, astonished by the claim. "Y-you mean you _really_ want our help?"

Taking in a deep, soothing breath Giovanni leaned back in his seat. His cold eyes gleamed up at the pair as he considered his response. "As strange as it sounds, yes," he replied, his tone much softer as he crossed one leg over the other and folded his hands in his lap. "It may be a shock to my system, but that boy you insist on following from region to region...he and his mother are vital to me."

It was Jessie and James's turn to stare blankly. What? Since when was the kid they had been chasing for years so crucial to their boss? And the biggest shock of all, why was his _mother_ too? Jessie and James couldn't deny that Ash was an exceptional trainer, that or pure luck was always on his side because life despised the Rocket agents so much that they were destined to fail. But his mother? Delia? That thought wouldn't leave their heads as they struggled to understand why _she'd_ be important as well.

Eventually after a few blinks, Jessie was the first to speak. "The twerp?" she repeated.

"And mamma-twerp?" echoed James.

Immediately, Giovanni's eyebrows lowered. "Excuse me?"

Now they were all confused.

Quickly, Jessie jumped in. "Uh, nothing." Their boss had no clue of their little given nickname to Delia and quite frankly, if they explained such Giovanni would complain that he'd be in desperate need of some pain relief medication. So, she tried to move the conversation along. "You were saying they're somehow vital to you?"

"Yes. Not directly by any means but...they are needed in order for me to fulfill a top secret project," at last declared Giovanni, his voice turning with earnest seriousness. "Have either of you heard rumors about _Project H_?" he continued to ask, while his large slinky cream-colored cat demanded for more affection with the push of his stocky, strong fingers.

"Uh..." both Team Rocket agents lingered, gazing plainly as their thoughts swirled. At their long, drawn-out sound of thought, Giovanni rolled his eyes, fingers beginning to tap the wood of his desk with annoyance.

"Can't think of a time that we've head," James finally answered, his index finger resting on his chin thoughtfully.

The criminal's eyebrows narrowed. "As I assumed. Let me just say we are exploring the possibilities of using the legendary bird Ho-Oh to exploit for our own personal advantages."

At that exact moment, Jessie and James's face nearly went pale, fitting the word "dumbfounded" masterfully. What did Giovanni just say? Did he just utter that he had intentions of using the wondrous phoenix that had remained a mystery even to the most experienced and knowledgeable researchers in the field of legendaries? Swarms and swarms of questions fired off in the agents' mind. When did Giovanni dream up this grandiose plot? How long had it been in motion? And why now was he bringing it to Jessie and James's attention? Was it close to being completed? How were they needed?

With a quick shake of his head, James tried to clear his thoughts. "Ho-Oh?" started the blue-haired man, the incredulity still harboring in his voice. "Isn't that that mystical bird with all the colors of the rainbow on its wings? And isn't it _extremely_ rare to find? Almost impossible?"

Giovanni adjusted his throat. "Well, yes-"

"And what does the twerp have to do with a top secret project concerning Ho-Oh?" interjected Jessie. "Then again, should this _really_ be a surprise?-"

"Stop your babbling and listen for once!" bellowed Giovanni unexpectedly, his talkative grunts closing their mouths shut and standing stiff like statues again. A heavy breath flew from his mouth, collecting his wits again as he rubbed his temple. His patience was already wearing thin from orchestrating the entire operation, and he _hoped_ this was the last time he'd have to explain the mission to another gabbing agent. "It is not _the boy_ who I need," he clarified, his voice stirring with tension, "it's his _father."_

Now the biggest bombshell had been set off, and neither Jessie nor James expected it. They didn't know what to think. _The_ Mr. Ketchum? The man whom they now cursed due to the fact he spawned the very boy who gave them Hell daily? In all actuality, they had no inkling of what Mr. Ketchum was like or how long he had been absent in the twerp's life. Wondering to themselves: had the twerp's father _ever_ been around? From what James -in particular- pieced together, it appeared the man left his family for unknown reasons. Though if it had anything to do with his wealthy and _very_ controlling mother, James couldn't blame him for running away. Still, the development was both startling and ironic. The_ very_ boy they had been chasing after for over _six years_ had a _father_ just as slippery as him that _their_ boss was dying to get a hold off. And for mind-blowing reasons to top it all off.

Ketchums apparently equaled troubling nuisances to Team Rocket.

Coherent enough to speak again, James spoke up to his employer. "Papa-twerp?" he croaked. "We've never met him before."

"Of course you idiots haven't!" snapped the crime boss, soon diving for a manila envelope on the left side of his desk. "Though I'm sure this face will look familiar to you."

Pulling the contents out and slapping them against the wood, Jessie and James leaned forward to catch a focused glance. Right before them was a vividly printed picture, the style of the photo-making one would assume was that of a trainer's photo on their I.D. card. Now, the agents had a face to match the name. The twerp's father was a decent height for a male, appearing fairly fit, lean, and toned. His unruly midnight locks sprouted from his head similar to his son's tresses. Though more kept and tousled with sharp waves. The look in his icy blue eyes and the expression he bore left Jessie and James with the feeling that he was more intimidating, wise, and tactful than his son. Though the subtle smirk was so uncannily similar it made their skin crawl. Shaky hands soon spread more pictures across the top of the table, the face of the hunted man from his younger years to present. Side angles, obviously taken in secret without him knowing a violation of his privacy were captured, both in city streets and forest settings. He had aged gracefully; however, as each photo showed an older version, his face appeared less youthful with vulnerability. And now, he just appeared stoic. The capturing of every year was impeccable, witnessing how much the man had matured. And how obsessed Giovanni was about this mission.

"He looks like the twerp!" shrieked Jessie, eyes wide in disbelief.

James's hand drew away from the picture he was holding. "I-is he-"

"The boy's father? Precisely," stated Giovanni, his eyes turning colder just by staring at the dispersed pictures. "Jayce Ketchum has proven himself to be a threat to my operations for the last ten years and therefore must be brought here for _me_ to handle. Not only that...but he is needed if _Project H_ is to succeed."

Jessie raised a brow. "How so?"

Giovanni's frown deepened and his hands flew towards the compiled photos. "You'll know soon enough," he replied, not giving either of the agents much of a response as he tossed the photos back into the envelope. "For now, I want you to bring the boy and his mother back here alive. And as_ quietly_ as possible," he emphasized. "I want to use them as bait to lure Ketchum here as well as use that silly Prof. Acorn. I have a hunch Ketchum is not surviving completely on his own and that the professor has been lending him aid somehow."

Before James could ask what assumption Giovanni came to in regards of the professor's help, he felt the need to make a swift and subtle correction.

"I believe his name is actually Prof. _Oak_, sir-"

"Oh, I don't care if his name is Prof. Aspen or Cherry!" hollered back the criminal, slamming his fist onto the table. By the sound of the pounding, Persian hurriedly slinked away from his owner, lounging back on the prestigious bed the feline had all to himself. From there, a few shallow pants flew from Giovanni's mouth, his composure returning. "I want him _here_ to interrogate. And..." The man's words slipped away again, as if a drifting thought was stealing his attention from the primary conversation. "I would have thought after ten years on the run Ketchum would have given up by now. But he hasn't," admitted Giovanni bitterly, sharp eyes slowly gazing back to his employees. "So I'm trying a new route altogether. I can no longer wait to complete this plan until he's half-dead and mad from running. So, I have high-ranking agents tracking him down."

Another glance was made between Jessie and James. _High_-ranking agents? If only they were given an opportunity such as that to prove themselves. Though by their white dress attire, they knew they weren't going to receive such a valuable mission till a black uniform was strapped onto their backs. It only made the two wonder _who _had been sent.

"But you actually want us to capture the twerp and his mom all by ourselves?" inquired James, as if their half of the mission was still a big challenge _they_ were hired to execute.

"Of course not," scoffed the criminal again, as if James's conclusion sounded asinine. "On the day in which you are instructed to bring them to headquarters a squad of highly-trained combat agents will be sent to assist you in their capture. If this kidnapping is going to occur, it must be done flawlessly. I don't want a single trace of our sudden appearance left behind. Or for any of those silly townsfolk that inhabit Pallet to ruin our plans with their nosy predispositions. Am I making myself _clear_?" he hissed once more, his teeth forming a visible snarl.

"Very!" replied Jessie immediately.

"Very clear, indeed!" stressed James.

"Good. First and foremost, you need to figure out a time in which it would be appropriate to bring our targets back to headquarters. Since you have been parading around town the last couple of days, I'm assuming you might already know a time? Or _hope_?" added Giovanni with another growl.

Nervousness was vividly displayed across their faces, shifty eyes looking back and forth as if trying to conjure up an answer. James had his mouth drop open on and off, for the shock of the unfolding truths still heavily intoxicating him. At this rate, he wasn't sure if he could stop gaping.

"Um, well-"

"Yes. Yes we do!" suddenly exclaimed Jessie, raising her arm up as if she was an elementary student responding to a question on a practice test.

"_Enlighten_ me then."

"The twerp's mother owns an inn and their entire staff is throwing this big celebration for, um-" The magenta-haired woman bit down on her lip, anxiety eating at her as she tried to remember the meaning behind the party. Leah had only told her "new servers" a good few times. Jessie supposed the thrill of being hired overshadowed the actual purpose of her new job. Eventually, she came back to her senses. "Well, for some reason I can't recall, but the entire town will be there!" she made sure to throw in with a weak smile.

Giovanni's expression stayed the same. "So?"

"So maybe when the twerp and his mom head back home, they'll be alone. And tired. Yes, tired!" she excitedly threw in again to enhance her on-the-spot plan. "So tired they won't even sense our presence as we capture them and bring them back to you, sir! Not only that but the entire town is invited, so the professor should be attending too."

A long slow nod was produced from the criminal as he sat frozen his chair. It appeared he was considering his grunt's words, though as the silence lingered, the hope for Jessie's proposition was dwindling by the second. Then, a shift in expression was made. "Would this take place during the night hours?"

"The party is late in the evening so it should go on into the start of the night," replied Jessie, watching her boss ever so closely.

Once again, Giovanni nodded and considered everything with another unreadable stare. It was convenient in several aspects. Everyone in town, by Giovanni's perspective, would either be too tired or simply too drunk to even notice his agents' presence; not only that, but the late night hours were too perfect for him _not_ to take advantage of. All those people would be so submersed in their sickeningly cheery hours of rejoicing no one would suspect a thing. No one would be watching any of them with a guarded eye...

No one would know they were missing.

Eventually, a lighter expression crossed Giovanni's face. "Interesting proposal. Do more digging and we will continue formulating this plan. Perhaps you both could join the staff for this...celebration. Go undercover," he suggested, though they knew that was a direct order.

The order in which they had already fulfilled. Oh, the irony of it all mildly irritated the two agents, considering they were hired when the pair was unexpectedly carted off by a silent grunt. But Jessie and James kept that little fact to themselves seeing they were finally making progress with Giovanni. Even if the situation wasn't ideal.

Their hands flew to their heads, standing still and tall as they gave Giovanni their very own salute. "Yes sir, we will!"

After that, Giovanni gave a final nod, which permitted the duo to leave. Though as fast footsteps hurried for the door, they were, to no one's surprise, stopped and forced to turn around with an impending fear riding in their gut.

"Oh and, before you two go," started Giovanni, his voice growing thicker with seriousness between every word, every creasing brow of intimidation. "If_ either_ of you _fail_ in executing your half of the mission you _both_ will face termination. And there will be _no_ exceptions."

* * *

Scrubbing the last food-soiled plate, Ash retired for the evening at the inn.

He walked over to his grandparents' house in a gloomy state, his head down with hands shoved in the front of his jean pockets. After his and his mother's less than understanding conversation, Ash hadn't spoken a word to her or much to anyone else. He had been given a sympathetic look from both Dani and Michelle, but neither expression was enough to cleanse his mind from the embarrassment and discontent of the situation. Annoyed couldn't even begin to describe Ash's feelings towards Gary's antagonistic behavior and the repercussions the smug teenager caused. Still dumbstruck, Ash couldn't comprehend why Gary behaved the way he did, or how his vexation for the dilemma ended up with Gary desperately gulping down water and him forced to scrub dishes till his hands resembled prunes. He knew his actions were malicious, Ash _knew_ it was wrong, and yet his usual judgement was amiss by the fueling fire Gary intentionally started. As he meandered closer to the old house, all Ash pondered about was why Gary did what he did, why he himself did something so foolish, and what would happen once Delia came home...

Cracking open the front door to his grandparents' home, Ash bore a somber look, catching sight of only Leah in the dwelling, who had come home the earliest out of everyone at the inn. Dani had left a little earlier than he did, making the raven-haired teenager assume she was already out helping Ernest with the Pokémon for the evening. Mr. Mime was also absent from the house, most likely shaking rugs out on the back porch. And the smell...something with an enticing aroma lured Ash's empty stomach with a faint gurgle. However, he was simply too upset to eat whatever there was for dinner. Dull chocolate eyes tried to avoid contact with Leah's green pair, which stayed focused on the distant teen as he quietly wandered into the kitchen.

Seeing his state, Leah tried to bare a friendly smile. "Finished?" she asked, drying the last remaining washed dishes on the counter.

Ash slouched against the doorway to the kitchen, eyes gleaming to the outdated tile floor. "Yeah."

Her grandson's less than cheery attitude made her frown with worry, and soon she motioned to a plate covered in foil on the opposite side of the counter. "Well, I wrapped your plate for you in case you're hungry," she mentioned, hoping he would at least eat something.

But Ash declined. "No thanks, Grandma."

At that moment, Ash was about to exit the kitchen, and to where Leah didn't know. She felt her heart pound with more concern, an aching feeling of what was troubling her grandson twisting in her gut. After all, the circumstance must have been bothering Ash a great deal for him to decline a meal, which Leah knew was very much out of character. So quickly, she seized the chance to speak to him with no judgement. "Come, sit," she ordered calmly with another kind smile, gesturing towards the empty table. Slowly as he entered, Ash lifted his gaze at Leah, thankful to find a neutral pair of eyes.

He still didn't want to talk about it, but seeing his grandma was willing to hear him out, he didn't want to upset her after she was trying to lend a listening ear and hear his side of the story. Sighing, Ash eventually caved in, pulled out a chair, and crashed down in it. Beside him, Leah pulled out her own seat and setting an arm on the table she turned to look at the teenager. The atmosphere fell quiet.

"Ashton," Leah started seriously, watching his gaze drift away again in silence, "what happened?"

Ash sighed once more, hands resting on the table as he stared vacantly at them. "Do you _really_ want to know?" he asked, now looking to her.

"Yes," she replied without hesitation.

With a twisting of his mouth, Ash's eyes gravitated back to his hands, trying to find the right words to describe the incident. "Gary was being impossible, and for no reason, too. He made me go back to get him a new glass of water, made me fix an upside down menu he could have easily done himself, made me return Michelle's stuffed peppers to her claiming they were 'underdone'... He kept interrogating me on the stupidest stuff, too, and then I just...snapped."

"What did he do to make you snap?" she continued to inquire with a motherly gaze.

Another fall into silence took place, the nasty claims Gary leaked from his mouth cutting through Ash like a knife. He didn't _want_ to repeat any of it. So he gave a vague answer. "He was saying crap about Mom and Misty. Just awful stuff," the teenager explained bluntly, eyes hardening into something perplexed and peeved. "And for what? 'Cause I wasn't doing everything the _exact_ way he wanted? 'Cause he doesn't_ like_ me? I'm sorry, Grandma, but I wasn't going to let him get away with it. Not after what he said about Mom...and now she's mad at me because I was defending her."

The anguish lingering in Ash's expression made Leah's saddened frown droop. Boy, was this a mess. She knew Ash never really did anything without a reason, a terrible one or not. And while she agreed that his perspicacity in regards to solving the problem was less than tactful, the older woman couldn't blame him. She, like the rest of the family, knew all too well of Ash and Gary's ongoing bickering, and when she thought it had all finally washed away...a new reason had surfaced. One in which Leah wondered had anything to do with that girl Gary was seated with when she told them they didn't have to pay the bill. The girl who was mortified and for some reason furious with her boyfriend... To Leah, the incident may have been different from all the other ones in the past, but it still had the same reason for happening.

Jealously.

And yet, Delia's reaction to the incident could not be dismissed...which Leah had an idea about. The wise grandmother knew her daughter like an attentive mother would. She took note of her behavioral signs, and knew her grandson just as intimately, believing he would understand his mother's pressures. Still, it was difficult to explain. "Ash, your mom is under a lot of pressure right now," began Leah gently. "I'm not saying it's an excuse, but with the party planning and getting _everything_ organized and prepped and a certain date approaching..."

Delia was the assistant manager, and had taken on the role of planning parties whenever the inn hosted one. Ever since her pregnancy with Ash, she had worked just as many hours and through just as many dilemmas as her mother did, becoming a real pro at the business. And from time to time Delia suffered from the fatigue and strain her job inflicted upon her. Not to mention, the woman's_ own_ personal matters. Times of the year when things became twice as hard as they should. Hard to cope with...

The last part drew Ash's attention immediately, wide and puzzled chocolate eyes gleaming to his grandma. "What date?" he echoed.

Leah's eyebrows promptly dropped. "Ash, you must remember."

"No, I don't," he replied, shaking his head sincerely. "I don't know what would set her off-"

"Your mom's anniversary is coming up in a week."

Ash's mouth clamped shut. _How_ could he forget? His head swirled with thoughts of foolishness over his absentminded nature, cursing internally for neglecting such a crucial date. It would mark his parents' seventeenth anniversary, a big and important number in itself. Proudly announcing so many long years of marriage. Though, Ash knew better to think that the occasion was a spectacular triumph. Barely seven years of their eternal vows of dedication were spent together, the rest lost in a sea of abandonment and harboring of true feelings for the other. The day alone, Ash imagined, would be like a knife slashing another deep cut in the heart, letting the blood pour its allotment until the next desolate anniversary. Never was he at home during this time to see how his mother would react, and the times he was home he was too young to recall. Ash worried that his mother spent that day wallowing in her own sorrows. But that wasn't like Delia- usually. No, she kept on persevering and in most instances, suppressing her emotions on such delicate topics. But her anniversary with his father... Ash wasn't sure if that was going to be a day Delia could easily carry through without thinking of him.

Without wanting him back.

Swallowing, Ash's voice grew meek. "Oh...I guess I forgot. And I guess I didn't consider that would bother her."

Leah watched him attentively, as if considering her own response. For a second, she bit her words back, and then a sigh was produced. "I suppose I should tell you this... Every year I give her the option of having the day off if she wants it," confessed the older woman. "I let her go be by herself if she needs it. To cope."

The stunned expression on the teenager's face had not lifted. He was unaware of Delia having the advantage of such an offer, and he had no clue the rendering to heal had been provided in the first place. It was most likely something shared just between Delia and Leah without leaking its reasoning to anyone else. One could call it nepotism, but Ash never thought to classify Leah's kind gesture as such a thing. Delia put up with a lot of hardships, and if taking the day off brought her comfort, then she deserved every minute of it. And yet, Ash wondered how secluding herself from everything helped his mother's recovering heart. What she did to make the pain...lessen. Or if it did at all? Knowing her, he figured the most she would do is sit around and mope, or worse- cry profusely. He had only seen her do that once, and it was a sight he wanted so desperately to mend by wiping every shed tear away with soft words of reassurance.

Blinking back, Ash sucked in a deep breath. "I had no idea," he announced, looking to the side with another shake of his head. "Now I just feel stupid-"

"Don't, dear," cut in Leah quickly, reaching for Ash's hand. "It's something she has to deal with- nothing you need to concern yourself with. And knowing your mother, I'm sure she'll apologize to you first before you even get the chance to. And if anything…I can talk to her for you," she added with a tiny smile of sincere help.

Observing his grandma's smile and considering her words, Ash too bore a faint smile and soon gently declined her proposition. "No Grandma, you don't need to do that." Then Ash glanced away, his mind spinning like a vicious vortex with every thought of his mother's grievances and the repercussions of his actions onto Gary's burning mouth. He had no idea his choices would burden her to such a heightened tension of stress. He hadn't contemplated the ramifications, even if it was just one strike on Delia's withering tolerance...

"Uggh, I just wish I didn't do what I did," the dark-haired teenager soon groaned, his culpable face falling into his hands.

"It's in the past, honey," assured Leah once more, bringing a delicate hand to his back. "No sense harping about it. Besides," she continued with a lighter tone, hoping it'd lift the tension, "from the little bit I heard from Michelle, she said Gary deserved it. Not that _I'm condoning_ it-"

"I know, Grandma," responded Ash through a muffled response. His head with still buried in his palms, though hearing Michelle was just as furious with Gary's antics as he was did make him feel a tad better. Still... Ash felt like he needed to make it up to his mom for his mistakes. And so, he deduced a brilliant plan that he could ultimately thank his grandmother for. "... Hey Grandma," he suddenly called, sitting up again with flushed cheeks and wandering eyes. "Do you think- to make up for everything, I could do something for mom on her anniversary? Or do you think that's a bad idea?" he concluded worriedly, his concern showing vividly through his anxious eyes and twisting of the mouth.

Like the lighting of a warm fire, Leah's motherly heart burst with a twinge of bittersweet delight. "No," she smiled earnestly. "I think she'd love that."

* * *

While still baring an aching head, Meowth- for the most part- skipped back to base camp happily.

His furry head was held high as he walked upright through the overgrown grass, gradually becoming closer and closer to his and his partners' secret hideout. They had skillfully concealed themselves in Pallet's valley of trees and hills, secluding themselves far enough from the main housing in town for them not be noticed. It was a quiet place to retreat to for the day after spending long hours scheming and plotting diabolical plans. Well, Meowth's goals for the day weren't_ exactly_ what would usually be on his agenda, but even facing the consequences of it he did not care. His first attempt at catching the feminine feline ended with less than desirable results, but he wasn't ready to give up nor be bogged down by anything.

_Mostly_ anything.

As the cat encroached closer and closer to their refuge, his carefree attitude was picked up quickly by his awaiting human partners. Both Jessie and James raised their heads slighty, looking peculiarly at Meowth as he marched towards them. Whatever he was thinking about seemed to take over his observations, not acknowledging the fresh supplies surrounding them that would at last ensure them a safe and comfortable experience out in the woods. He appeared happy as a Shelldar and for what reasons neither Jessie nor James knew. They just hoped his day went better than theirs did. Theirs, full of twists and turns, ridicule, and the pressure of executing a job to perfection hanging over their heads... To say the least, the Team Rocket grunts were sulking in their impending worries.

Soon enough, as Meowth came up to them the crackling of a freshly lit fire snapped the cat out of his dazed state, finally scrutinizing the changes before him. It was a huge shock to him, though physically seeing two red tents, a couple of lanterns, backpacks, and rolled up sleeping bags... It must have been their lucky day. But where did all the wonderful supplies come from? "Hey! What's with all da camp supplies?" exclaimed the cat, blinking as his eyes traveled across the area. Then, they dove towards his silent comrades, who were glumly staring into the burning embers. Meowth frowned. "And what's da madder with you twos?" asked the cat with a rather confused tone.

Lifting her gaze slowly, Jessie sighed. "The boss sent out an agent to come and find us," she explained, eyes fixed with a mixture of emotions.

"And he was livid that we didn't show up," added James, the first time his weary eyes lifted as he sat near the sparkling flames.

Meowth's ears dropped. "Dat's not anyting new."

"Yes, but I suggest you prepare yourself for the details on the new mission he wants us to complete," continued the blue haired man, pulling his knees in closer to his chest.

Even at the end of the meeting, Giovanni never bothered to disclose the full details of what _Project H_ was and how Ash's father was somehow involved. Jessie and James wondered if it was just Giovanni's way of keeping them in the dark in fear that by telling them they'd somehow let the devilish plans slip to the ears of someone who'd potentially ruin the entire scheme. More so than usual, Giovanni appeared severely on edge. He was never exactly delighted to see Jessie and James's faces, but at least during the beginning of their conversation he truly represented a ticking time bomb that would explode if the right words weren't produced.

Clearly "papa-twerp" was doing a number on the crime boss.

"It can't be any worse den then the crap we've been dealin' with dis entire time," objected Meowth, approaching the two pathetically huddled agents.

Jessie reached out and warmed her hands near the fire. For some reason she felt extra cold, as if her nerves were sending continuous shivers up her spine. And now she had to tell her feline partner the news. Good news it was for them to _at last_ have a _real_ mission to complete...yet it felt somewhat discouraging still knowing they'd be _fired_ if they made one mistake. It was a lot of pressure to carry for three agents who rarely were successful.

Taking in a deep breath nonetheless, Jessie composed herself and released the truth. "The boss wants us to capture the twerp, his mother, and Prof. Oak for purposes of luring the twerp's father into his clutches," she declared bluntly without blinking an eye.

Immediately, Meowth drew back, stupefied with bulging eyes. Did he just _hear_ her correctly? Did Jessie just utter the words: capture, twerp, mother, Prof. Oak, _and_ the twerp's _father_? With an agape mouth, Meowth tried to fathom the situation, why the boss would request such a thing. Too many questions stirred throughout his mind for him to even exclaim anything. So instead, he carried on gaping. "I missed dat much?!" screeched the cat, looking to both his teammates for a response.

"Be glad you did, Meowth," retorted James, huffing as he rested his chin on his folded arms.

"So dere's a papa-twerp?" the talking cat inquired. Last time he checked, Mr. Ketchum was nonexistent, and now, completely out of the blue, he was making his debut and for the boss's own personal benefit?

"Apparently," huffed Jessie, "and if he's anything like the twerp then I _don't_ want to meet him." She still couldn't forgive the dark haired trainer for unintentionally causing a mudslide to happen as they followed him in pursuit. Though God knew if the twerp _was_ aware of Team Rocket's presence, he would personally stick in those twigs and mud-clods of dirt that took Jessie an eternity to entangle out of her luxurious, long, magenta locks.

Remaining befuddled by the startling news, Meowth persisted in questioning. "But wait a minute!" he interjected, waving cream paws in the air. "What does the twerp's dad got to do with da boss?"

"It's too complicated to explain!" snapped Jessie with a groan. Then her glove-covered hands clamped onto her head, and her eyes closed as she did so. "Just thinking about it all makes my head hurt."

James, too, bore a rather distressed look to the befuddled feline, his expression though more upset than frustrated. "My mouth was agape for almost the entire time after the boss told us, Meowth. And I couldn't even close it when Jessie and I were about leave, so he ordered me to do so by yelling and telling me whatever I had for breakfast was an unpleasant color and that I needed to brush my teeth!"

There were no words. Only a silent stare came from Meowth as he tried to process James's tale of an unfortunate incident where a toothbrush was needed at a pinnacle time with the boss himself. Even being a cat, he knew how embarrassing it was to be told there was chewed food still lodged in one's canine. _Especially_ to be told by Giovanni.

Meowth blinked sympathetically. "Sounds bad."

"It was," snorted Jessie.

"It was_ very_ bad," agreed James.

"But you twos gotta tell me regardless if I'm supposed to help ya out!" shouted the cat, very much desperate to milk out as much information as he could.

Telling Meowth about being kicked off the team if their part of the mission backfired... Not that that threat hadn't ever risen before. It had. _Plenty_ of times. Only this occurrence appeared to bear complete seriousness in Giovanni's eyes. That he _wasn't_ going to keep them employed simply because the trio still had to pay back their debts from all those obliterated machines. No. This was their final chance and all that pressure was now riding on their less than successful shoulders.

Feeling the frustration burn furiously in her gut, Jessie became flustered. "We will, just- just give me a moment. I need some aspirin!" she unexpectedly proclaimed, rising from her seat in the vibrant green grass. In a huff, she strolled away from her partners and to the tent she claimed as hers. Crawling inside to sooth her uneasy mind.

As she left, James glanced her way, feeling empathy and pity for his equally as stressed teammate. As it stood, Meowth had the effortless job and even at that, with how demanding this new task was going to be, James wasn't sure if Operation: Nab the Parker Farm was going to take off at all. Not until he and Jessie discussed the matter in full detail- perhaps if they did- God forbid- fail in the apprehending of the twerp and the others, stealing the farm Pokémon might save their hides just enough to remain as low class agents...or not.

Walking a few steps closer to James, Meowth went on gawking at all the new equipment. "Da boss gave you guys all this stuff?" he asked, assuming so.

"Only because we're doing this much for him," replied James weakly, eyes just barely glancing at the blessed materials of survival.

Giovanni was only generous to offer them two tents, and even at that, there was hardly any legroom inside them. Jessie claimed one tent all for herself when they originally set them up, leaving James to share one with Meowth and all his shedding hair follicles. With a sleeping bag plus a pillow, it was a much better arrangement compared to snoozing on dewy grass with wrapped arms as their only source of warmth. Yet even with those perks, none of it could ease James's worries. He was supposed to excited, _beyond_ thrilled they were at last making a break...and all he could feel was apprehension, hoping endlessly they'd triumph for once. However, not knowing exactly what Giovanni's intentions were... James was left with mixed feelings.

Distracting James's internal thoughts involuntarily, Meowth released a loud sigh. "Well, I gotta rest my feet!" From there, he crashed down next to James, sitting on a small rotting log he found just for himself a day or two ago to prop up his aching feet. "Walkin' around sure has tuckered me out!" he continued to exclaim, though his voice returned to a more bubbly tone, letting his feet kick up in the air as he felt the cool summer breeze between his toes. Oh, he was so lucky to be ignorant of it all.

Green eyes steadily watched Meowth's expression shift to a mellow one. "So, make any progress on the farm?" inquired the blue haired man, eagerly hopeful for positive developments.

"Plenty," replied the cat, his eyes closed with a dreamy smile.

James' eyes glimmered with a faint shimmer of hope. "That's good news. What have you found out?"

Meowth's hazy grin grew from cheek to cheek. "Dat da twerp's grandpa has a fellow cat livin' in his barn. Bet he doesn't even know it."

A frown crossed James's face. What did that have to do with hauling the entire farm away for their self-gratification and approval from the boss?

"That's not the kind of progress I meant, Meowth. And why are you all of sudden becoming so googly-eyed?" Squinted green eyes observed the cat carefully, looking closer and closer at him, only for James to come to a conclusion. He had seen that face before- _too_ many times before, and now dread was taking over his face. "_Meowth_?" croaked James sternly, as if imploring for undivided attention.

But Meowth didn't stir out of his state.

"Yes, Jimmy?"

"Please tell me this isn't another attempt at falling in love?" begged the agent, anxious for an answer.

"I already am in love. All's I gotta do now is win da girl."

Oh, great. Another distraction.

At the confirmation, James's frown deepened, his brows creasing together as he leaned forward. "Meowth, that wasn't part of the plan!" sharply reminded the man.

"Ya don't plan love, Jimmy. It just happens," answered Meowth coolly, unmoved by his partner's concern and rather perturbed state.

Jerking back, the words rang through James's head as if they held some philosophical meaning to them. Then, he withdrew in his shell with a softening of eyes, visions that had been embedded in his mind all day beginning to emerge. Subconsciously doing so, James momentarily glanced behind him, catching sight of Jessie's silhouette in the bright red tent. By the light shining inside thanks to a vibrant lantern, she was apparently changing. James's cheeks deepened a shade of pink as he watched her arms rise over her head then as the garment was tossed to the side. The interview back at the inn, about what James wished for in his fantasized reality...

"Yes well, love always isn't in the cards," rebutted the blue haired man, dull eyes gazing back down to his shoes.

"No, but dat's the appeal of it," countered the cat. "Ya never know when it's gonna come, and usually it comes at the most unexpected of times. Ah," he sighed fondly, "love sure is a mystery, ain't it, Jimmy?"

At last, Meowth's gaze beamed up at the bright moon casting its poignant glowing rays below, still unaffected by James's comebacks. He was simply too submersed in the thought of that pretty cream colored face, and now how the moon always reminded him of a round block of cheese. He then wondered if _she'd_ like cheese... But in James's case, the man wasn't sure if one could compare love as an unexpected occurrence. Like searching for a treasure at a flea market that after years of hunting one finally finds, or a fortunate happening of one bumping into someone who could magically wipe away that person's financial troubles in a flash- or even meeting an old friend after so many years. To James, love wasn't as convenient and elementary as those things...but it was as idealistic and gorgeous as the shining orb above.

James's eyes flashed at the red tent again, then they lingered up to the shining, evocative moon.

He sighed, enraptured in thought. "It sure is."


	11. Pocketful of Sunshine

**Author's Note: **I just wanted to thank those who reviewed chapter ten: KaliAnn, BannanGodis, remisolleke, and Guest: Heather. And to Spruceton Spook, who I _know_ will get to it eventually! ;) I relished all your comments very much! And am sooo ecstatic to see I have a new reader too. :) Thank you Guest: Heather, for leaving your thoughts! You're too kind! It was a treat to read both of your reviews for this story and for _Junk of the Heart_. I appreciate you pointing out that tiny discrepancy that needed to be changed. Just to clarify, Jay and Delia's anniversary should be the seventeenth, **not** the sixteenth. I went back and fixed the mention in the previous chapter so there isn't any confusion. There's a reason why I am majoring in English and not math. ;p Honestly though, I try to stay on top of everything for you guys and for myself, so most of the content is fairly accurate with logic and consideration. But I am human. XD So anyway, that minor detail has been fixed!

Also I have some good news... my summer break has officially started! Well, once I_ turn in_ my final this evening it will be! I am sooooooo happy I can't even describe. After that, I'm just going to decompress and let my mind recover from its spent exhaustion on over-analyzing sociological studies. lol.

Now please enjoy the new installment of _Sunlight's Return_! :D

**DISCLAIMER: **_Pokémon_ belongs to Satoshi Tajiri. My oc's belong to me.

* * *

**Sunlight's Return**

**Chapter 11**

_"Pocketful of Sunshine"_

Hanging up the last pan and putting away a few wooden spoons, Michelle was relieved her day at work was officially over.

She had stayed early into the night, making sure everything was in order while seeing her sous chefs out before leaving herself. She wasn't alone, however. While Leah and the other staff members had retired for the day at a sooner time, Delia was still wrapping up her own work before taking off for some peace, relaxation...and sleep. All in all, it was a quiet preparation to head home. Michelle cleaning up the last remaining messes in the kitchen, and Delia making sure everything was settled with the night manager. All seemed in order when Delia strolled into the kitchen to see Michelle, both grabbing their purses and ready to crash on their own sofas once they stumbled tiredly into their homes.

Hearing the sound of soft feet and the clasp of a purse clicking shut, Michelle's eyes flew up. She was sticking a couple wooden spoons in one of the many holders when she spotted Delia in the entryway of the kitchen, most likely coming in to say goodbye to her. Just by a flicker of her gaze, Michelle could see the evident exhaustion sweeping across Delia's face and immediately understood why she was feeling this way.

Soon, a sigh flew out of the chef's mouth. "Today sure has been a whirlwind, hasn't it?" she commented, finally removing her apron.

Delia twisted her head around, finishing adjusting her purse before throwing it over her shoulder. "You can say that again," she breathed, eyes wandering to the side. "Oh, I have no idea what I'm going to do when I get home," she moaned, placing a delicate hand on her cheek in worry. "How I'm going to handle this issue with Ash. Do you have any idea what possessed him to put hot peppers in Gary's burger?"

Oh, Michelle knew all right. She had actually done a little investigating, sneakily asking Dani as to what exactly occurred in the dining room once seeing Ash begrudgingly scrub away on the many dirty pans. So Dani quietly delivered all the details, claiming she had spoken to Ash after Delia cornered him with her motherly lecture. And while Dani's stance on Ash's actions had not changed, she was severely irked and vexed by Gary's parading into the inn and ensuing chaos. Michelle herself could not agree more with Dani, especially after Gary's not-so-considerate critique of her food.

Considering her words carefully, Michelle responded. "Apparently from what Dani says, Gary was not only giving Ash a hard time about the food and the service, but he was talking smack about you and one of his friends. The details were pretty incriminating."

Instantly, Delia's eyes widened. "_Me_?" she echoed, pointing to herself in disbelief.

"Yep. I guess Tom insisting you still bear the name 'town tart' influenced one malicious kid," the older woman elucidated, shaking her from the unnecessary insinuating.

With still an ever shocked expression, Delia's shoulders slouched and soon she leaned against the counter. Her purse now hung loosely on her arm, soaking in the news that was not so surprising, yet astounding nonetheless. Now Delia's make-believe "reputation" was not only causing her havoc, but Ash as well. If she was bold enough she'd go pound on Tom's door and give him a piece of her mind for throwing that ridiculous name around over an accidental incident. One that did _not_ need to be shared with the entire town and be carried on for this many years... "Oh, no," she mumbled, chestnut eyes quivering. "Ash- so he was defending me?" she suddenly persisted, wondering if her ears were deceiving her.

"You could put it that way." Within seconds, Michelle could see how her confirmation affected the distressed woman, quickly coming to Delia's side to ease her worries. "Listen hon, as a chef and business woman, I don't excuse what Ash did. I don't. _Period,_" she made sure to emphasize. "But as a family friend and as your Godmother..." Her answer hesitated as much as her eye contact, eventually swiveling back to Delia in a low, facetious whisper. "Just between you and me, Gary got what he deserved."

Even so, Delia didn't feel any less guilty or frustrated by the situation. None of Ash and Gary's squabbles were simple matters to sort out, nor did Delia's patience last long during the duration of Ash's ongoing explanation for his behavior. Handling a sometimes defiant and- in most instances- rightfully upset son all on her own was challenging. Delia felt beside herself after a while, wondering if she did the right thing, if she had been too harsh, or had been too easy on him... Now given the clear picture, Delia was appreciative to have some light shed on the issue. Yet, she still could not decide how to proceed.

"I...I didn't even listen to him," the auburn haired woman sputtered, pushing back a loose strand of her tresses. "I was just so upset by his actions. That's not like Ash to do something so- mean!" she declared in simple terms.

Michelle nodded sympathetically. "Yeah, but you know when Gary gets him going there's no stopping him," she also added, for it was a crucial fact.

And Delia couldn't argue.

"You do have a point... I should have listened to Ash," sighed Delia again, still beating herself up internally. "Regardless that he deserved to be punished, I should have heard him out. Gosh, what's the matter with me?"

"Nothing. Delia, you're being too hard on yourself," the older woman insisted gently, looming to catch her shifting eyesight. "I may not be a mom, but from what I can tell, it's not easy."

"No," Delia chuckled faintly with wide eyes, "it's _definitely_ not a cakewalk."

"And you're doing the best you can. Remember Delia, you're raising Ash _all_ by yourself. He's going to, dare I say, screw up!" exclaimed Michelle, attempting to be lighthearted by the less than simple predicament. "Life happens, and as long as Ash corrects his mistakes and sees the errors of his ways he'll be fine. And besides, you know him better than anyone. He always feels the need to defend and stand up for people. He's _always_ looking out for you."

That could not be denied. Since Ash's father vanished before their very eyes, he felt the sudden need to always shield both his parents from the cruel words spread about town, and in doing so, attempted to stop a younger Gary while he was in the midst of snickering about one of his parents in some unkind fashion. These words hurt Ash deeply, and when Delia believed her son was able to let go of some of the tormenting, to separate facts from lies, he was still apparently affected by the connotation. It was difficult for Ash to be the bigger person and simply walk away without uttering a single word. Delia was aware of this headstrong streak in Ash, though she could have sworn his tendency to fight back had lessened quite a great deal. Clearly, whatever Gary's exact words were, they rubbed Ash the wrong way enough for him to pull such an audacious stunt in an effort to defend his only parental provider and supporter. And Delia wasn't happy about anything regarding the circumstance.

"Yes, well that may be, but I don't want him doing that," she insisted seriously. "I can take care of myself._ I_ need to be the one looking out for him-"

"He just loves you, sweetie," Michelle continued to remind, placing a loving hand on Delia's shoulder. "Remember...you're all he's got."

* * *

The Pokémon Center became quieter as each hour drew closer to nightfall.

In the earlier hours of sun and warmth, Drake had purchased a handful of needed necessities for Misty, and she could not thank him enough for his assistance. In the Vermillion Mall with their many department stores he waited patiently, letting her take her time to pick out the items she needed before they hit the road once more. In the end, Misty was able to stuff three pairs of shorts, two tank-tops, two thin t-shirts, a bundle of socks, one set of pajamas, health and body products, and a small package of colorful hairbands in her new traveling bag to top it all off. She was giddy, to say the least, to find a retro print over-the-shoulder bag with Horsea and bubbles printed on the pockets and strap. Just being able to walk about and select the essentials she was in dire need of relieved some stress that was growing inside of her. And the trip eased her mind about her less than fortunate predicament only having two Pokémon on her arsenal. Not to mention…it was very chivalrous of Drake to willingly pick up the bill of her expenses, and even Jay too, adding his own handful of cash to help her. After all, it was the least the men could do- considering all the twists and turns she had faced so far. Though Ash's father did not join them on their thrilling shopping expedition, staying behind to discuss further matters with Prof. Oak.

Once the pair arrived back at the Pokémon Center in the late afternoon, Jay did not reveal much and kept to himself till they were through dining in the center's cafeteria. Then, many trainers traveled to their assigned rooms for the night, the entry to the building literally emptied, which left them in privacy to comment on the news Jay had. That is, the findings both Misty and Drake assumed he would have, since he had been on the phone with the professor for a decent amount of time. As the lights dimmed in the center, the three lounged on the sofas available for relaxing trainers, aimlessly sitting by as more and more people ventured to their rooms. After a while, all that was left was a busily working Nurse Joy, her hired assistants, and a few Chansey scurrying about to assess checked-in Pokémon.

Eventually, Drake flashed his gaze towards his brother, who sat across from him. "So, what did Prof. Oak have to say?"

Jay raised his eyebrows, slipping out of his stoic stare. "Actually, he might have made some progress after all."

"Well, what is it?" the islander persisted excitedly.

His body tensed, as if he could not partake in the luxury of lounging on the couch like the two people opposite of him could. Then, he sucked in a deep breath, leaned forward with a hand running through his midnight locks. "Sam's not sure how valid his hypothesis is, and quite frankly, I'm not too sure either," he began quietly, eyes darting from side to side to look for any lurkers overhearing their whispers.

"_But_?" inquired Misty this time, also very eager to hear the news.

"But it makes...sense," finished Jay, eyes shifting back to them. "Since Ho-Oh's rumored gift is to give life back to creatures, Sam thinks resurrection is somehow in the cards."

A gasp flew from Misty's mouth. "_Resurrection_?"

"Are you serious?" echoed Drake, just as dumbfounded as the girl beside him.

Jay nodded his head somberly. "I'm not joking. From my experience with Giovanni that wouldn't surprise me. However, I can't wrap my head around one thing: what on earth would he want to bring back from the dead? And how would the feather connect to that?"

A pause followed after, all three of the trainers exchanging looks. There were notions that they silently contemplated, but there was not a single idea they were confident with to definitively state. Yet, one of them in particular felt bold enough to announce an assumption.

"Maybe the feather is needed to call upon Ho-Oh," proposed Drake logically.

"Maybe..." It appeared Jay was considering his brother's hypothesis, and continued to ponder meticulously with a focused attention. "Originally, his mother had me use one of the silver bells from the Tin Tower. And both the bell and the feather connect back to Ho-Oh in some way..." Then, a heavy sigh was produced. "But I can't say anything for certain."

Another moment of awkward silence fell upon the stumped trainers, all keeping to themselves as they soaked in their grave situation. Wearily, Misty shot a glance to Drake and soon to Jay, hoping for one of them to shift their blank expressions. But neither did, and she could not stand wallowing in the frustration that was embodying them. Misty never believed they were going to solve the mystery behind Team Rocket's scheme overnight; however, she wasn't ready to sit and wade while dreaming of a hopeless cause that was impossible to decode.

With confidence, sea-green eyes flashed. "For right now we do know whatever Giovanni is doing is _obviously_ for no good and that somehow you and that feather are needed," started Misty openly, hoping to stir up a conversation again. "Do you remember why Team Rocket wanted you to call upon Ho-Oh the last time?"

Of course he remembered. He recalled all the details so vividly his pulse raced wildly and his mind swirled in panic every time his thoughts relived the traumatic events. Jay was certain it would take someone to erase his memory for him to forget that horrific day. Though he didn't expect the girl to understand. "Giovanni's mother was convinced if she saw the phoenix she'd be blessed with eternal happiness, as the legend says. However, that wasn't the case. And...I don't seriously believe Giovanni would attempt the same tactic after seeing it fail once," he added, a sense of credence in his voice. "He's much smarter, more tactful than his mother. She was rash, compulsive, completely self-absorbed... Her son is just a more calculative version of herself. Whatever he has up his sleeve he's going to do it slowly and methodically...and then attack when you least expect it."

The last part of his declaration made Misty's skin crawl, the worst possibilities filtering through her head. More and more, discussing Giovanni's tactics, what he was truly like...her frets for Ash and his mother could not be suppressed. And evidently, the redhead wasn't the only one quietly brooding with these frightening thoughts.

"And as for Ash and Delia?"

The mere mention of their names sparked another hue in Jay's eyes, his pupils widening with a hurried heart rate. "_What_?" he spoke, completely caught off-guard as he glanced to his younger brother.

Drake now sat with his broad toned arms folded over his chest, blue eyes capturing Jay's attention in a pensive hold. Up to this point, Drake had been rather flexible and gentle with Jay on broaching the subject of his family. However, impending worry could not be lifted from the islander's mind. And it was justifiable. "Jay, what if Giovanni is already plotting something that we don't know about?" he suddenly declared, fright and sternness seeping through his eyes. "What if he _knows_ about us and then _they_ will be danger-"

"He can't. _He_ _can't_."

Deathly afraid couldn't begin to describe Jay's feelings on the matter of his family being in Giovanni's clutches. After so long of running, of the lies, of the misconceptions, the inability to clear the air and to one day be in Delia's good graces again...it would be devastating to discover his arch nemesis had beaten him to the punch. Had fulfilled the threats he had warned Jay of ten years ago- that distant yet unforgettable year...when everything so pure and beautiful in his life was shot to hell. If Jay was going to fulfill his last days on the run, he was finally going to do it his way. Though while he wished to admit it or not, he was nevertheless still playing by Giovanni's game, hunkering in the shadows in hopes no one would find him. No one would come after them...

Serious eyes did not shift, even with the doubts and concerns floating through his stressed mind. "I won't let it come to that," the master declared passionately with insistence. "There's no way in hell I'm going to allow _him_ to lay a hand on either one of them. I've protected Delia and Ash for this long... I can keep it up."

While Jay's baritone vocal cords may have appeared threatening to some, Drake wasn't fully convinced. He had physically seen his brother's changed attributes, the look in his eyes that spoke of pure tiredness. For Jay's own health, Drake felt it was dire to address Ash and Delia's safety, regardless if they all did not want to comment on the possible grim reality. Not only that, but he wasn't persuaded by Jay's assured words. His older brother may have felt the natural instinct to protect. And by doing so, he would put forth all his brute strength and brains as a skillful trainer, to continuously ensure his family was as far away from evil's grasp as possible. However, with how things were panning out, with the new recruits Giovanni had after them... Drake couldn't believe everything would fall into place perfectly, as much as they wished for such an outcome. And as experienced and intelligent a trainer Jay was, he knew better than to not weigh out the positive and negative results from his actions.

Resurrecting the dead was, after all, not to be taken lightly. No matter what the costs or one's feelings on the matter may be.

"But what _if_ your distance from them isn't enough? Then what?" the islander countered anyway, with a reasonable tone. "We have to discuss the possibility." His brother's sheer love for his family was nothing new to Drake. And yet, the denial had to be questioned. The reality unfolding before them could not be blinded by love. Even if Jay's intentions were good.

Jay's face stayed fixated in a definite stare. "...Brock and Sam will take care of that. I can't think of the worst case scenario, Drake," he persisted evenly, earnestly wishing for his brother to hear his side. For that positivity and hope were the only things keeping him halfway sane. "If we're going to do this right, we are going to stay as far away from Pallet as possible. And figure out what exactly Giovanni is up to. Brock is on the ferry, isn't he?" he inquired, eyes diverting to the redhead before him.

"Yeah, he has been for a while now," Misty nodded. She had only told him a dozen times. "He should be in Pallet in a few days..."

The reassurance, however, didn't seem to change the atmosphere engulfing the sitting area. Jay still appeared slightly on edge, both out of nervousness and stubbornness to stray away from formulating the condition his family could be at stake to face. While Drake remained rather annoyed by his brother's lack of cooperation on the concern, beside himself on the subject in its entirely. And as for Misty... She was torn. She could not blame Jay for the way he reacted, for endlessly wanting to believe his family could remain safe under his watch. Yet she also understood where Drake was coming from, and in a sense, had to agree with him. It was an indisputable situation and by the rising silence and challenging glares being exchanged from the brothers, Misty hastily tried to engage and refocus their discussion.

"Let's just- think about what Prof. Oak said," she started calmly, begrudgingly earning the men's attention. Then, in particular, she looked to Jay. "Did he have any hunches as to what Team Rocket wants to resurrect?"

The master sighed, though there was still something hopeful twinkling in his eye. "Sadly, no. He is, however, trying to get in touch with an old colleague of his by the name of Dr. Donald Kelly." Instantly, both Misty and Drake perked up at the mention of the unfamiliar name. "He was an assistant training under a professor at Celadon University while Sam was a college student there. Eventually, the man moved on in his career and soon was renowned for his studies concerning the origin and powers of legendary Pokémon. Sam thinks he'd be of service to us, possibly have the answers we're looking for...but he can't locate him."

Drake's anticipated expression faded, his voice drooping with despondency. "Then I guess we're back to square one," he replied in dissatisfaction. Just when he thought some useful information and possible guidance from an outside source would be available to aid in the solving of his brother's predicament- there was a catch. Cruel irony in that of course the only man who might offer more assistance than Prof. Oak had unknown whereabouts.

And Drake wasn't the only one feeling cheated, thwarted by it all.

"I suppose so," agreed Misty with lowered brows. Then, she swiftly threw out another question, not completely ready to accept a defeatist mindset. "But does Prof. Oak know at least what region he's in?"

Jay's too very vexed expression was similar to Drake's, yet more temperate as he kept feeding off his mental hope for strength. "Last time he checked, the guy was living in Kanto, which would be an advantage for us. Though Sam believes he's secluded himself somewhere for- reasons," he summed up awkwardly, though he, too, was befuddled by Sam's wording, for he was ignorant to what "reasons" there were for the man's choice of solitary confinement.

Finally, Misty's expression dampened. "Oh," was all she said, before bright eyes darted to the floor in disappointment.

It seemed even she could not see a way to continue the conversation with optimism and encouragement. They were all in a real mess that would take more than wishing to be dug out of. As if large rocks relentlessly poured down on them every time they attempted to climb out of the hole Giovanni had personally dug himself. All eyes stayed cast down, Misty and Drake hardly glancing about or knowing what to say. At this rate, they both wanted to crawl into bed and sleep away on their troubles, praying that in dreamland they could possibly escape the dilemma they were faced to resolve. Wanting _endlessly_ for Jay to be safe for his own sake and health, for some kind of sign to show itself...

Then, a rumble of a baritone voice snapped their attention back into focus.

"There is one thing I'm certain about. I think something we _all_ can agree on." Immediately, they both looked up at Jay and listened willingly, the seriousness in his voice leaving the hair standing up on the back of their necks. And even Jay was chilled by his truthful yet terrifying words. "Ho-Oh stands for grace, peace, and virtue of purity. And whatever Giovanni has in mind is going to corrupt all the phoenix represents. For his own selfish benefits...whatever they may be."

The trainers may have known Ho-Oh's symbolism, and agreed to its definition without argument, with consensus to go to bed, reflect over their discussion, and to start fresh in the morning... But what they didn't know was that outside the Pokémon Center there were two dark figures who scurried out from underneath Jay's car, and that a tiny blinking red light was left behind.

* * *

Unlike last time, eighties music was not bouncing off the walls in Pallet's store. Rather, it was sixties tunes, indicating to Delia that Greta was on a nostalgia kick again.

Nevertheless, she didn't mind the change in music, finding it refreshing as she strolled her way into the store. The establishment was only going to be open for another hour, giving Delia a brief amount of time to find the exact item she was searching for. In an effort to make up for the mother and son's rift, Delia journeyed to the checkout aisle, focused on buying a Pokémon League magazine to mend the tension. She knew Ash enjoyed flipping through one to pass the time, and in some cases, aided him in his training. But if Ash was entitled to have a new edition of the leagues' magazine, didn't that mean... Ash's reckless act wasn't going to be excused and he would still have to face another day of scrubbing pans and- though it was debatable- make a halfway decent an apology to Gary. Still, even at that, Delia felt responsible for not fully hearing her son out, now knowing for certain he was defending her and a friend... It was complicated matter, that both Delia saw reason in Ash's frustration and then did not. One in which she would have to discuss with him in full detail and cooperation, most likely tomorrow.

In her current dazed mindset, Delia knew it was not the best time for her to ponder over her next step and instead simply took action in locating the desired magazine. However, as she began her short hunt across the shelves, another object caught her eye. And it wasn't one she'd usually pick up and dispute mentally about purchasing. It was an article from a newspaper, and what was on the front report startled the woman. It was announcing Fuchsia City's recent festival attack thanks to none other than Team Rocket. Delia shook her head at this, not surprised at all by their ambushing public events. Dealing with the three maladroit agents who were always in constant pursuit of her son was enough to shake her nerves. Thankful that her encounters with them were scarce, Delia was always appreciative that Ash had his friends with him whenever the Pokémon thieves decided to make an appearance.

And apparently, Delia's son and his comrades weren't the only ones dueling with the corrupt organization. The front page briefly commemorated a group of trainers who prevented Team Rocket from causing further damage, but for some reason their names were left anonymous. It was comforting to know there were trainers out there to protect Kanto's society, however it made Delia question how diligent their police system was. That, or Team Rocket was so slippery to catch everyone had to go out of their way to hinder their harmful intentions...

Shaking off her thoughts of Kanto's leading criminals, Delia refocused her attention on finding Ash the little treat she had originally come for. Then with a quick skim of eyes, she found it on the middle rack. There was only one Pokémon League magazine left, and Delia took the opportunity to grab it before it was grasped in another person's hands. So the woman picked up the magazine, flipping through it as she waited in line and found a couple of articles she believed Ash would enjoy reading. One based on battling tips from Elite Four member Prima, another about the remodeling of the rock field to a more arduous level for competitors... But none of these basic but enlightening articles could top the next one Delia was about to discover. As she so innocently pulled back another page, a jaw-dropping development was revealed, and a gasp leaped from her throat.

And Delia knew for certain that Ash would be exhilarated with antsy excitement, and absolute admiration would fall from his lips.

* * *

That morning, after a quick breakfast, Jay, Drake, and Misty left immediately from the Pokémon Center.

They woke up, packed their belongings and were the first in line for the meal most people tended to skip. It was Jay's idea to rise earlier than normal, to beat the crowd instead of succumbing to waiting aimlessly towards the end of the line. That and the obvious fact he was fixated on the plan of leaving as soon as possible before Team Rocket strolled into Vermillion looking everywhere for them. Another car chase was to be avoidable, and if it could then Jay was determined to push his traveling companions out of the center as fast he could. Even if Misty was still in the middle of finishing her granola bar and putting away her money in which she paid for it. And she not so shamefully griped about on the way out. Nonetheless, the three trainers were out of the establishment in decent time and made headway in stuffing their full bags into the trunk of the car. Once making everything fit, Drake was the one who slammed the back shut, Jay already heading over to the driver's seat. Misty was about to join him as well, till fidgeting with her coin purse ended in a spilling of dingy coins across the cement. A soft groan slipped from her lips, hands diving downward to collect the dispersed change hastily.

Drake was about to head to the passenger's seat himself, and stopped once he noticed Misty was not following him.

"Ya coming, Misty?" he called, not seeing exactly what she was doing.

She perked her head up. "I'll be in the car in a minute," the redhead announced, arm stopping midway between her hurried collecting. "I'm just picking up some change I dropped."

"Need a hand?" she heard Drake offer his services.

But before she could respond to his kind gesture, Misty was already picking up the last piece of change, one that had rolled right underneath the car. And she grabbed it with one attempt, though as it rested in her grasp, something else stole her attention. The small dime nearly slipped out from between her fingertips as a red light kept on flashing. Misty was paralyzed. Silence then took over, and as each second ticked by Drake could no longer stand by and wait for her to respond.

"Misty?" he called again, finding it very strange she wasn't answering him immediately. It was simple question; a yes or no would suffice. Yet she had not proclaimed either. As his eyes dashed down to the cement, the islander took notice that Misty's bare knees were still firmly planted on the solid ground, making him wonder what the world she was doing. If she was okay.

Concern began to consume him, and soon, Jay too shot him a strange look. "Misty?-"

"Mr. Ketchum! Drake! Come quick!"

The alarm beckoning for the men sounded as if air had finally returned to her stunned lungs, causing the two to take off in hurried steps. Both trainers rounded each side of the car, each standing before a kneeling Misty, who remained in a frozen state. Startled stares watched her carefully, both trainers beseeching for her to say something.

"What is it?" inquired Drake.

"What's wrong?" added Jay.

A gulp slowly glided down Misty's throat, her index finger quaked as she pointed to the distraction that captured her attention in such a dramatic manner. "T-take a l-l-look for yourself," she managed to sputter, sea-green eyes shuddering just as much as her hand and voice.

At first, Jay and Drake exchanged another perplexed glance, and then both men crouched down and took a look for themselves. Like Misty, they too froze abruptly. Blood drained from their faces, their minds racing with the one answer most would assume that _thing_ to be. The origin of the flashing destructive red light...

"Get back."

Jay's swift and urgent demand came with a gentle push of his hand. Following the command, Misty squirmed backwards, halfway on the cement as she watched Jay cautiously crawl underneath the vehicle and turn on his back. Drake too appeared extremely perturbed, kneeling with wobbling knees as his brother's hand drew closer to the beeping device.

"Jay, be _careful_," he ordered heedfully, his mind still pounding with the worst possibility. "Is- is it a?-"

"It's not," the master finished, his hand fully clamping onto the small box. Both Misty and Drake winced in fright as Jay snapped it off the car, and soon the anxiety flowed out of them rapidly, realizing it truly wasn't planted there to blow them up. And Jay reminded them of this with a small smirk. "They want me alive, remember?" he retorted, pulling himself out from underneath.

"Then what is it?" questioned Drake, ignoring his remark.

"Looks like a tracking device," replied Jay, eyes scanning over the item as he tossed it once in his hand. He then clenched it in his fist tightly, his gaze shooting back up at his comrades. "We'll have to get rid of it."

Misty lowered her eyebrows. "How?"

Another smirk was speedily formed. "I have an idea."

Traveling through the streets, turning corners carefully, and not running any red-lights in this instance, Jay was busy concocting his plan to discard the tracking device. As they were cruising down the road, he kept his gaze sharp and scrutinized the area around them, as if picking the ideal spot to dump the less than desirable object. Beside him sat a very unnerved Drake, holding the flickering device and wishing for it to finally be out of his possession. They had waited long enough, he thought, mentally pleading for his somehow cool and collected brother to choose a damn location and be rid of the haunting item resting in his grasp. Thankfully, for everyone's rising nerves, the sound of splashes below with the color of a rich blue hue prompted Jay to make a command.

"Throw it in the water. You have a good angle?" asked the master, eyes shifting just slightly from the road ahead.

Drake's steady gaze concentrated on the clear sloshing depths beneath them. "Yeah, I think," he answered.

"Then just toss it."

Tossing the tracking device was harder than it looked. At the time, they were crossing over a long bridge, with one other small overpass below them, closer to the proximity of the water. Vermillion was famous for its waters, shores, and harbor, and considering the city's natural area, bridges were bound to be built above rivers. Now the problem was making sure a strong enough thrust of his muscular arm could launch the device far enough into the river's depth. So he did the best that he could, rolling down his side window and forcing the mechanical device to fly with one hardy throw. Closely, Drake watched it glide through the sky, though as the car kept on speeding, he missed the exact moment of watching the item hit the water. But from how powerful the hurl was, the islander assumed it landed where it needed to go. Forever lying with the many wild Goldeen and Magikarp swimming peacefully about.

"There," he announced with a sigh of relief, rolling the window back up. "It's gone."

"That'll keep them busy for a while," commented Jay, thankful too for the removal of such a minor but explicit device of their whereabouts. "And for us, we can halfway relax."

"I hope so," agreed Drake, yet a twinge of leeriness lingered in his eyes. Whatever forthcoming fear he believed would arise he quickly shrugged off and turned his attention onto something else. Something distracting. "You mind if I turn the radio on?" he asked Jay, fingers motioning to the buttons.

"Go ahead."

So with his permission Drake leaned forward and began the long task of flipping through the many stations. Yays and nays were made by both Misty and Jay between selections. Music baring the twang of a banjo to the strumming of a ukulele, which Jay severely protested even though Drake enjoyed that genre and Misty herself didn't mind it. Drake was after a while drawing closer to a classic rock station _and_ a heavy metal one to boot in which he knew his older brother would be satisfied with. But a popular pop song with a lively contemporary sound that Misty found infectious to dance to sprung excitement in her eyes. While she and her sisters had different tastes and views on several topics, they all did share a love for catchy pop songs that could not be helped but listened to repeatedly.

"Oh, go back! Go back!" urged Misty suddenly as Drake skimmed past the song. "I_ love_ this song!"

"Okay," he replied, going back and allowing the female vocalist ridden song to play with a neutral position as he leaned back in his seat.

But Jay wouldn't have it.

"No," groaned the man with a huff. "I don't wanna listen to this."

In most instances, Jay tolerated a fairly diverse selection of music thanks to his parents culturing him at a young age. However, some genres he strongly refused to listen to for certain reasons, usually because of a reminder of his childhood or simply due to the fact that it was not his preference. Pop music that was targeted to the demographic of teenage girls who adored simple foot-tapping tunes and repetitive lyrics about falling for a boy or breaking up with a boy were definitely _not_ on his list of likes. Even if this song was more on the lines of fantasizing a "sweet-escape" to less complicated days; one fleeing from their troubles while facing an inconvenient situation, much like the one he was in currently... It was already decided if_ he_ was the one driving, _he _was going to listen to the crashing of drums and an electric guitar solo that deserved an outstanding applause.

"It's not a big deal, Jay," answered Drake speedily, rolling his eyes. "You can have a turn with the radio in a few minutes."

"Geez, way to lay down the law,_ Mom_," he spat back wittily, pouting as his gaze trailed away from his brother. Though, it wasn't long before his eyes wandered back to Drake, carefully observing the tips of his little brother's fingers tap in unison with the electronic beat of the song, as if the melodious ring was shamefully getting to even the likes of Drake.

A sudden snort was produced from Jay's throat. "Don't tell me you like this music?" he scoffed, stealing Drake's entranced focus.

With subtly flushed cheeks, he shrunk into his shoulders, and meek eyes glanced away from his brother's judging stare. "It's a guilty pleasure," Drake admitted quietly, forgetting how observant Jay tended to be, catching onto every little facial expression and movement.

Jay nodded with a watchful eye. "Uh-huh."

Listening to it all, Misty decided to throw her own two-cents in. "Well I think it's just fine if Drake likes this song," she proclaimed in defense to the Orange Crew leader as she leaned forward with her head sticking out between the men's two front seats, her hands reaching on each leather-detailed back.

From her comment, Jay couldn't suppress another huff, to which Misty narrowed her eyebrows at. "C'mon Mr. Ketchum, have a little fun while we're on the road!" she said lightheartedly. Though the redhead paused for second, rethinking her words. Out of all of them, Jay had the utmost right to be tense and, in some cases, entitled to call the shots. But this harmless, silly song...he could indulge in it. Just for a few minutes, to forget about his current worries and cut loose for a change, no matter how ridiculous the song might have sounded to him. Misty, of course, did not want to dismiss his troubles as something trivial, but she didn't want to see him get so wrapped up in them that nothing could bring about leisure to his guarded state. After all, it was just them now, and that horrific tracking device Team Rocket had so deviously attached to the vehicle was long gone.

In that moment, they might as well have enjoyed the bit of sanctuary they had.

"I mean," she started again, rephrasing in a more sensitive manner. "I know you're stressed about...everything, and you have every right to be. There's no denying that. But for just a moment, could you entertain me and suffer through this song?" threw in Misty playfully, a small, hopeful grin growing from her lips. She had seen his eyes light with sparks before, a brief softness of happiness shining through that hard, tense gaze. And out of kindness and growing trust, Misty wished to not only help guide Jay back to his family, but keep his sanity intact as well. "I promise you can have the next pick, and Drake and I will suffer through whatever head-banging song you choose."

"Please don't promise that," mumbled Drake, for he himself hadn't vowed to such an agreement.

To Drake's dismay, it was a fair proposal Jay could not fight, and a tiny slip of a smile was produced. Misty was viewed as a kid in Jay's eyes, a teenager, yes, but still innocent and young enough to not challenge, to not get intensely angry with. She had proven herself to have somewhat of a temper and a bite, but a kind and considerate heart nonetheless. And she was beginning to remind Jay of someone he knew very well like an open book. However, there was something about her response that pricked his ears in peculiarity. "How do you know I prefer, as you like to call it, 'head-banging' music?" he retorted jokingly, though in all seriousness he wished to know how the girl was aware of his favorite genre.

Misty's smile fully blossomed with a soft shimmer of her even complexion. She hoped the answer would warm the man's heart. "Ash might have mentioned that to me," she breathed.

As she predicted ever so propitiously, nothing could hold back Jay's gentle expression from fully forming. A very delicate smile graced his handsome face. However, what Misty didn't expect was with a humble movement of his fingers, the man decided to crank up the volume, permitting her to truly splurge on the second half of the song while it lasted. Evidently, Misty's friend's estranged father wasn't as stoic and gruff as she originally found him to be.

That much might have been true, but the location in which Drake believed he had successfully abandoned the tracking device was journeying _away_ from the ocean, instead of actually floating to the bottom of the watery floor.

* * *

Ash was asleep when Delia arrived home, and she didn't have much of a chance to speak with him that morning either.

It appeared he was somewhat avoiding her, making a dash to the door to run an errand she had asked him to do a day or two ago. But Delia didn't stop her son from leaving, allowing him to make the trip to Prof. Oak's to fetch a half-dead house plant he was having difficulty keeping alive. She still, at the present time, had not conjured the exact words she so desperately wanted to communicate to Ash. In a sense, the words would usually come to the woman during a tough conversation such as this. And like every other time, Delia prayed the awkward exchanges and the quarrel from yesterday would be cleared up in order for them to know how to properly proceed with the issue at hand. So waiting for Ash's return, Delia spruced up the kitchen and, on occasion, her eyes would trail to the magazine in the plastic bag that lay on the kitchen table. She had full intentions of giving it to him once their discussion occurred with a resolution, silently tickled pink knowing how enthralled Ash would soon be at the big announcement written inside that magazine.

It would brighten in his day without a doubt, though Delia was never the kind of parent to bribe her child with luxury items or reward them after displaying such bad behavior. But there had been a _huge_ misconstruction of the circumstance with Gary, and Delia felt partially responsible for it once realizing how awfully crude and obscene Gary was acting towards her son. That wasn't going to change the fact that Ash _still _needed to be accountable for his actions. And Delia was going to make that clear when he came through the door.

After draining the sink of soapy water, wiping off the counters with a clean dishcloth, _and_ finally feeding Pikachu his morning allotment in his decorated bowl, Delia heard the door creak open. With an evenly coated summer tan Ash entered into the house, carefully balancing a medium sized planter in his grasp while closing the door behind him with his sneaker. He then approached Delia quietly with the plant he had been instructed to bring over. Prof. Oak had mentioned to her that the exotic houseplant he received from Annie and Chad as a gift was not favoring well, and baring such a green thumb, Delia offered her assistance. And now actually seeing the plant's condition, it was no wonder Sam brought the plant's grave state to her attention.

"Hey," Ash soon called, his voice soft with eyes avoiding contact. "I got that plant from Prof. Oak's."

Delia immediately sensed his apprehension, and bared an inviting and gentle grin as she still remained in the kitchen. "Oh thank you, honey. Just set it by the patio door." She was hoping her friendly tone compared to what she gave him yesterday would break the ice. "I'll figure out where to place it and how to treat it."

Heaving the plant up to get a better hold of its base, Ash followed his mother's instructions and sat it down. "Prof. Oak wasn't joking when he said it needed a little TLC," he observed, stretching his cramped back out. Then, for the first time his gazed lifted to Delia. But it was quick. "It looks pretty bad, Mom."

"It does?" Hurried footsteps meandered to the patio door, soon standing beside her son with a lowering of brows. "Oh, dear," the woman sighed, placing a hand on her cheek. "When he said it was wilting a little, I didn't think the plant was this bone dry! Poor thing. I wonder what the problem could have been?"

"Too much sun?" hypothesized Ash with a shrug.

That was a decent assumption on Ash's part, for Delia too noticed the rather parched leaves looking frail and brittle with a discoloring of its natural rich green hue.

"Probably," agreed his mom. "But I'll get it back to being healthy in no time."

Such optimism left Ash feeling he could make his grand getaway he was in the middle of forming a reality. Ever since yesterday's rather stern lecture from his mother, Ash felt as if he should avoid her, terror of the altercation spurring again or somehow causing more accidental mayhem. It did appear that Delia was back to being on the chipper side, not harboring any grudges that fine sunny morning. Still... Ash was anticipating _something_ to happen, given they hadn't left on clear terms the day before.

Wandering eyes trailed to the front door, his body twisting as the teenager backed up to it. "Say Mom, ya mind if I go do some training?" he asked, his feet already moving, hoping by his sudden departure Pikachu would catch on and join him. "Dani and Tracey said they'd battle with me today and help me with a couple of strategies."

Delia perked up. "Oh sure, but can you just hold that thought for a minute, Ash? There are a couple of things I want to talk to you about."

His swift turning of feet did him no good in drawing closer to the door, nor did it stop his mother from speaking the words he dreaded to hear. Huffing softly, Ash twirled back around and followed Delia. "Uh, okay."

She led him into the kitchen and offered for him to take a seat, which he did, sitting across from her. As he looked over to his left, he saw Pikachu was still busy munching away on his electric boosters created by none other than _Element Endurance. _He didn't give much thought over the haunting brand-name, though, for he was too anxious about what his mom had to say. Once settled in her seat, Delia ruffled out the creases in her skirt, Ash watching her carefully as he cocked a dubious eye.

"What is it, Ma?" he eventually questioned, anxiously waiting for a response.

A deep breath was exhaled between Delia's soft lips. "I'm sorry I didn't hear you out yesterday, Ash. Michelle filled me in on what exactly happened."

That was a reply Ash was not expecting, and he showed it quite vividly through his expression.

"Oh."

"And I just want you to know that, you don't have to defend me," she continued to elucidate, a tender hand reaching out to touch his. "No matter what the case may be."

He nodded in response, comprehending her calm words as they sunk in. It was a simple concept Ash accepted without any complications, yet there was a part of him that remained reluctant to agree. A point in which he usually asserted. "Yeah, but I couldn't just stand there and let him say that awful stuff about you," he argued swiftly. "It's not right."

"You're right, it's not okay...but I don't need you to act out too to make a point," she in return countered. "Ash, as kind and devoting it is of you to want to protect me- I still can't excuse how you handled the problem."

Another nod followed, processing it all before jumping the gun on defending his actions. After having a heartfelt discussion with Leah and the culpability weighing heavily on his chest, Ash could see the fault in his misconduct with the spicy burger. Undoubtedly, he was holding himself accountable without the need for Delia to intervene. Just imagining how Gary felt, the slight pain he experienced, the embarrassment... Ash wouldn't want to undergo anything on similar lines. But on the contrary, Gary had put him in _plenty _of uncomfortable situations- none in which Ash easily forgave him for.

A sigh and one more depressed nod was made. "I know. And I'm sorry, Mom. I really am," Ash assured, his lungs filling with passion on the subject. "He just- Gary just _really_ pissed me off. I don't know what got into him, but for some reason he felt the need to attack me. Makes me wonder if I did anything..." Ash had pondered over such thoughts all day yesterday and into the morning. If anything, he was deeply dispirited by their altercation, and that it seemed Gary had reverted back to his old tricks again. For once, Ash was honestly convinced he and his old rival had made amends and could maybe start over with a brand new, clean slate. Possibly becoming friends if they were lucky...

Delia's bright eyes dimmed. "It doesn't matter, Ash. What Gary said was wrong and if he had an issue with you, he should have handled it differently," the woman preached, a full believer in this philosophy. "And that's what I want _you_ to do now. To be-"

"The _bigger person_, I know." Ash had only heard that speech about a thousand times, making him wonder on how many occasions he messed up. How many affairs he put his mother in the same boat of repeating herself, feeling utterly beside herself as she tried patiently to work out all the kinks for her son's welfare. Now thinking too exceedingly over all the factors, a frustrated groan fell from Ash's throat. "Uggh, I just don't know if I can apologize to Gary," he confessed, rubbing his hands across his tired face. That was the hardest part to accept. "Not after what he said... But- I know that's what you want me to do."

From that, the mother's expression intensified. "It's not just that, Ash. Owning up to your mistakes_ is_ the right thing to do. But I don't want you to do it for me, I want you to do it for _you_," she made sure to install, considering the benefits of her son's growth were undeniably for Ash as he became a better and stronger man. Not for her own satisfaction as a parent. "You may not always understand now, but you will in the long run." Her eyes stern with maternal enforcement turned gentle as a tender reflection caught sight of Ash sinking lower into his seat. Watching him fall quiet, the look of guilt across his face... Delia didn't want to see him this way. She wanted to see that bright, brilliant expression that was so infectious no one could help but smile at. As of late, Delia was relieved to see that radiant side of her son more often. His Pokémon, his friends, and the journeys he so boldly took without a second thought and his devotion to his family...that was what made Ash.

That was proof alone to show how far he had come since those days of nightmares and endless wonders of acceptance. From _him..._

The creeping of a very weak smile flourished, and once again a hand was placed over that of the teenager's. "Honey," started Delia lovingly, stroking his fingers gently, "you've come so far. I just don't want to see you take a giant step back."

A giant step back... Ash didn't want that either and he quickly grasped the implication Delia was leaving him to assume. He wasn't the same lost, dejected, struggling kid he was back in elementary school who was grieving over the loss of his father. He had channeled his stubbornness into determination, welcomed his natural peppy side, and humbly forgave and accepted the reality in which he and his mother were unfairly placed in. Letting fate take the reins instead of intervening himself. There were days, however, when he did wonder about his dad. Those days were alive and well, though they weren't as frequent or as- resentful. More so than usual those thoughts, now dreams, were hopeful.

"I know," spoke Ash again, this time his voice lowered to a calmer tone. "And- and I hear ya. As much as I hate to admit it, I probably _should_ make amends with Gary. Even if he doesn't apologize to me," he concluded, somewhat bitter about the fact.

Nevertheless Delia was pleased, and her smile only grew and she rose from her seat. "That's my boy," she said sweetly, coming over to him to place a ginger kiss against his messy midnight tresses. Then, as she pulled away, a hand playfully ruffled his strands of hair, cocking a cheeky eye as she did so. "But honestly Ash, I don't know _how_ many times I have to tell you that it's not your job to defend me. I need to be the one looking out for you."

Ash chuckled innocently at this. "I can't help it, Mom," he shrugged. "You're my mom... you mean a lot to me."

What felt like a burst of warmth coagulated in Delia's heart, making it swell with appreciation only a devoted mother could feel. She resisted the urge to let a single tear slip. "You mean a lot to me too, pumpkin," she cooed, tousling his hair again before walking back to the other side of the table. That plastic bag still lay untouched and with apologies and understandings in order, the mother felt it was the perfect opportunity to reveal the big surprise.

"And because of that," she began playfully, reaching for the crinkled bag. "I thought I should be the first to tell you some big news before it broke out in town. Take a look."

With a swift pull, what appeared to Ash was a Pokémon league magazine, but it had been flipped through, the cover folded back to showcase an apparently significant page. Ash took it in his grasp with curiosity, and it transformed into lively enthusiasm the instant he read the bright bold letters stamped across the top. He nearly lost his breath from the sudden gasp shrieking from his throat.

"A-a n-new Pokémon Master?!" he proclaimed in both enthusiasm and amazement. A hand combed through his hair as his mind worked to process the phenomenal news, its announcement blowing his mind that words had difficultly being produced. "There- there hasn't been one in over_ fifty_ years!" he at last exclaimed, a great, merry laugh escaping from his vocal cords. "This is incredible! I can't believe it! So are the leagues gonna announce who it is or what?"

His sparkling excited eyes led up to Delia, who remained smiling as she now balanced a cup of coffee in her hands, one that she had abandoned earlier. "They plan to in a few weeks," she answered, leaning against the kitchen counter. "His or her name will be announced on T.V."

"A few weeks?" repeated Ash, eyes dramatically wide. Then, they dashed their way over to the floor. "Did you hear that Pikachu? We have a new Pokémon Master!"

Whether the electric rodent was able to comprehend human speech or not, he could tell his master was exhilarated with joy and chattered back equally as delighted. "Pi! Pikachu!" he replied cheerfully, his cheeks stuffed with organic pokechow.

Seeing his friend's similar elation, Ash's grin grew and he glanced back to his mom. "Wow, so we'll get to see it when it premieres?" he asked again, assuming the lavish event would air on television, similar to the actual league matches.

And Delia confirmed this between a sip. "Hmhm. I know how much becoming a master means to you, and well, you haven't been home in a while now and since you'll be here when it airs I thought that- that it would be special for us to watch it... together."

Together indeed. Without Delia's continuous support of his goals Ash didn't think he'd be as successful and cultured in the realm of Pokémon training as he was now. Delia's loving endorsement of his dreams meant everything, especially since she was the one who gave him the permission to go on a Pokémon journey- and provided all the care and essentials along the way.

Ash couldn't agree more.

"I'd like that, Mom," he replied with a softer smile. "Thanks for telling me about it. I'm gonna read the article right now!"

Hands sparked with eagerness sloppily pushed in his chair, having Ash start his glide across the kitchen floor and eventually head up to his bedroom in which Pikachu would join him later. But as he climbed the first couple of steps of the staircase, Delia froze him in his animated excursion.

"Uh, Ash?" she called from the kitchen entryway, just barely walking into the living room.

Ash indicated his attention by the hurried turn of his head, silently hoping she had more captivating developments to share with him.

"From what I read, they leaked the new master is from Kanto and because of that they're holding the ceremony at the Indigo Plateau," she disclosed, knowing that would be the icing on the cake for her aspiring Pokémon Master-in-the-making.

And it was.

"Seriously?!" he shouted in astonishment. Now he definitely had to read the article closely, and possibly a couple of times for the news to fully sink in. "Man, this is so awesome! I can't believe the master is from our region! It would be amazing to actually meet him or her in real life!" he couldn't resist saying, knowing in the back of his jolted mind that he _wished_ for that dream to come true.

"Well, who knows? Maybe you will one day," Delia responded encouragingly, which only furthered her son's natural gleeful glow. "Enjoy the magazine, sweetie."

"I will. Thanks again, Mom!"

The sound of excitable, pounding footsteps made their way up the stairs, prompting Delia to head back into the kitchen. Only in this instance, she was caught off-guard by an unanticipated beckoning.

"And uh- Mom?" Spinning back around, Delia met Ash's gaze once more as he stood in the middle of the stairwell. A very sheepish and promising grin seeped from his lips. "I won't let you down again."

Then, he was off to his room, the sound of his door slamming shut indicating he was at last there.

Delia's heart, and this time mind, filled with euphoria of pride and motherly adoration. Releasing a faint sigh, Delia held the steaming cup of dark rich liquid with a splash of raspberry cream close to her chest. Her eyes stayed fixated on the empty stairwell. The pooling of faint, joyful tears began.

_You could never let me down, Ash._


	12. If He'd just Come on Back Home

**Author's Note: **Hello my lovely readers! :) Just wanted to thank all who reviewed chapter 11. KaliAnn, jg13145, Guest: Heather, and Guest: Marie, thanks again you guys for taking the time to leave your kind thoughts. I enjoyed reading all of them! And to Spruceton Spook, who left a spectacular review for chapter 10! Always love hearing your thoughts! To hear from a couple of you that you're in love with my story... wow. Just wow. That's super amazing, and I'm incredibly happy you guys are enjoying each development so much! I honestly can't express how much those kind words to me. Thank you all for the continuing support.

I feel for some reason though that I am moving at a snail's pace... doesn't make sense, considering I always manage to have a new chapter in my beta reader's inbox (which chapters 13 and 14 are already with her). XD I guess I'm still recuperating from writing papers from my spring course, and I'm just now getting back into the swing of typing and generating solid writing.

Also, I apologize for forgetting to mention this, but a while ago I outlined my entire plot and after looking at all the content carefully I have a feeling this story will surpass 25 chapters... more like 28 to 30. I know. That's LONG. But I wouldn't want to squeeze too much into one chapter for you guys to read OR for my beta reader to edit. I kind of had to do that for _Silently Broken_, but I feel I have more leeway to break up chapters with this story.

**As a side note:** For any of you following _Junk of the Heart_ I hope to have chapter 4 up by this weekend or early next week. :)

Now savor the newest edition of_ Sunlight's Return_!

**DISCLAIMER: **_Pokémon_ belongs to Satoshi Tajiri. My oc's belong to me.

* * *

**Sunlight's Return**

**Chapter 12**

_"Oh, What I'd Give, if He'd just Come on Back Home"_

Delia's hands shook as they sat in her lap, chestnut eyes concentrated on the simple but magnificent ring on her finger.

Summer's rays glistened against the rear-view mirrors of the red truck, its condition less than favorable, yet much less dingy than how it would appear in later years. It was her truck, and he was driving it, driving them to the destination which would install the next step in their relationship. To be man and wife.

"You nervous?"

The sound of her fiancé's baritone voice gave her pleasant chills, and she beamed a radiant giddy smile up at him as he called out to her. "A little," she admitted, gazing back down at the very small morganite stone resting in her shimmering engagement ring. "But I'm really excited. _Really_."

"Me too," Jay chuckled, focusing back on the long road to Viridian City again. To the courthouse. "God," he soon exclaimed with a bewildered shake of his head, "I can't believe we're doing this."

"Are you _finally_ getting nervous?" Delia joked, cocking a playful eye. If either of them hardly showed any anxiety it was Jay, who masked his anticipation so beautifully it was utterly romantic when he secretly swept her into the truck for them to make their love official. His proposal, the much unexpected purchase of a house on the market, and his blinding dedication to her- That he had boldly chose a life with her over whatever convoluted reality his parents wished for him to have without his actual consent...

"'Course not," assured Jay hastily, laughing a little between their witty dialogue. Though in the back of his mind he _was_, but not enough to back out of their soon to be life-changing event. "I just... This is a big step and- I want to make it as special as I can for us...given the circumstances," he admitted quietly, his voice bearing soft seriousness. "And when we're ready to face our parents, when they find out... I'll be beside you the whole way. No matter what."

From the many bursts of adoration Delia had felt all day, one grand flutter won over the others by sheer intensity. Delia had heard these words nearly a hundred times, but to hear them fall from the mouth of the young man who was now about to become her husband... Those promises of devotion and compassion strengthened Delia's mind and heart all at once.

"Me, too," she promised just as softly, and then her gaze averted to the window. Watching the scenery go by.

After a short pause of silence, Jay's attention meandered to his soon to be wife, admiring her natural beauty shortly before staring back at the road. Then, a faint, sly smile grew. "But believe me: _nothing in the world_ is going to stop me from getting to that courthouse and _at last_ making you Mrs. Ketchum."

Jay's words alone shot an indescribable rush up her spine, her awaiting future so enticing she wished it to come true that very minute. To confess bluntly, Delia liked the sound of her new title to be: Mrs. Delia Marie Ketchum. She thought it rolled off the tongue nicely, and its initial title aroused thoughts of pure wedded bliss. And what would soon come after the exchanging of rings.

"Good," she replied, cocking her own mischievous smirk. "And if anything, could you drive a little faster? Because I've been _dying_ for the honeymoon phase for quite some time now!"

"You've been thinking about it all week, haven't you?" he threw back, glancing at her briefly once more with another wily smile.

"How can I not?" she giggled flirtatiously.

"Oh, Delia," he followed with a dreamy sigh, carrying on with their silly comebacks. "If you don't wish to get us into a car accident then_ please_ do not entice me any further."

"But I can't help myself," she chortled for another time, batting away his playful pinching grasp on her upper leg. "If you weren't so handsome and sweet and kind and _so_ genuine-" Then, she stopped herself, unable to remove her focus from the pair of icy eyes before her. Jay glanced at her quickly, for he was directing his attention to the road, but his side profile was just enough to enrapture her heart. With a slightly opened mouth, Delia continued to stare at him, fluttering auburn eyelashes watching him ever so closely. He was ineffably incredible to her, both inside and out. He was a real catch, so perfect to her that the farm-girl could not _believe_ he had truly chosen her. That he, for some reason, was _crazy_ for her and her long braids, so different from the world in which he originated from... Yet Delia could not see herself living without Jay.

Not for a second.

Oxygen returned to Delia's lungs as she at last spoke. "I want to be with you, Jayce," she suddenly declared, a serious gaze of attachment swirling in her gentle eyes. Once declaring such, the girl's heart pumped fiercely, anticipating the response she so desperately wished to hear fall from her lover's lips.

Instantly, a graceful smile sprouted. As she hoped. "And I you," he replied with sincerity, as he tucked a strand of her long locks behind her ear. She blushed immediately from his touch, her heart pounding once again as his fingers daintily felt the lace of her homemade veil. He could smell the sweet scent of roses tucked in romantically around his beloved's head, giving her the halo she truly deserved. Soon, Jay exhaled a deep breath. "I'm committed to us, Del. To _this._ And I mean that more than I can express... I love you, Delia."

She wished to say _I love you too_; horribly in fact, but the words wouldn't come as her mouth gaped, struggling to speak. It seemed as if the start of them was beginning to fade out and the reality was becoming distorted, the coloring evanescing back into darkness- Jay gradually vanishing. The upwelling of the distant scene became the memory it truly was, everything becoming out of reach-

Darkness fell. Jay was gone.

In a great fuzzy haze, a beam of light shot through the black world she had fallen into and soon a full burst of bright colors met her eyes. Crinkled eyelids slowly opened to what appeared to be Delia's bedroom, her sight eventually trailing to the clock beside her nightstand. It was around seven o'clock, a fairly late time for her to sleep in. Delia's wavering focus scanned the entire room, which eventually fell to the untouched side of the bed. Then, she breathed out a heavy sigh.

_It was just a dream..._ she thought, the depressing note of reality ringing predominately as she rose from her sleeping position. That haunting reminder played over again in her head while she collected her wits, shaking off the euphoric but haunting dream she just had. Thinking endlessly about their once eighteen-year-old selves, his shadowed face... Hands pressed firmly on the mattress as Delia sat upon the edge of the bed now, her toes just touching the carpeted floor beneath. Deep breaths repeated themselves as her head sunk into her shoulders, small droplets of sweat glistening off her forehead. She was feeling so immensely rattled, tingles of nerves soaring through her body. For her to not even be in conscious thought, the day had already proven itself to be painful with utter sorrow and undeserving loss. And Delia could hardly stomach it for a moment.

Steadily she rose from her spot on the bed, her body slightly hunched as she regained her composure. Dreary eyes tried to see through their natural morning fog and her long strands of auburn hair, causing Delia to push her messy tresses aside. In a pathetic effort, she walked over to her dresser, in which the top displayed all her minimal jewelry and accessories. In a little box lay a handful of hairbands; she grabbed one and lazily tied her long locks into a very loose ponytail. Then as her hands slapped down to her sides, she sighed. Most of those beautiful pieces of jewelry were from the love of her life who she thought ten years ago would be here with her on this glorious day. At least, it was _supposed_ to be a glorious day... Delia didn't want to feel sadness. After so many years of fighting something that was out of her control, she had, to a degree, been able to set herself free without anything from the past holding her down. But every time this day approached- it was never easy, and every year proved that to the quietly grieving woman.

Dull chestnut eyes continued to capture the shimmer the attractive jewelry gave off, the bracelets sitting in the center of the open beaded jewelry box, drawing Delia's attention more and more. What lay beneath the top layer of the box… The removable center that hid that envelope and all its memorable trinkets that so befittingly went with it... Delia's hand drew back. Was it wise to indulge in such things, in such writing? Or would it simply bring about more agony she had no choice but to already flounder in? At the time, Delia did not submit to the temptations and instead reaching for her thin periwinkle bathrobe, headed for her bedroom door.

It was best to leave the box and its contents alone when she had the strength.

So she wandered down stairs in a daze, still dressed in her summer pajamas as she heard a few clangs and footsteps originating from the kitchen. Delia perked up at this, though was not at all alarmed as she continued her short journey, and soon rounded the corner of the kitchen entryway. The smell, on the other hand, and the bountiful amount of breakfast goodies nicely decorated across the small dining table startled the woman. Then she was enamored by a beautiful full bouquet of flowers, and what looked like a fresh-baked pie resting on the counter. Delia's eyes widened, her fuzzy mind capturing the exquisite scene before her. Especially at the sight of her son, who was working haphazardly with the waffle maker.

Was this all for her?

By the faint gasp falling from her mouth, Ash glanced over his shoulder and grinned meekly at his aghast mother. "Morning, Mom," he said warmly, clumsily removing another freshly cooked waffle from the hot device.

Delia simply blinked in return, bewildered eyes still skimming her surroundings in amazement. "Ash- what is all of this?"

"Are you surprised?" he went on grinning, plating the final waffles on a platter. "I made breakfast for you! 'Cause, you know, it's your special day-"

"With _my_ help." The voice that rang over Ash's was evidently Dani, making her appearance as she too entered. She had originated from outside, and threw an equally friendly expression towards her stunned aunt. "Morning, Aunt Delia. I went ahead and watered your garden for you, so you and Ash don't have to worry about that. And uh- happy-"

"It's all right, Dani," the woman cut off gently, seeing the awkwardness display over her niece's face. She knew Dani meant well, but there was no obligation in uttering such if it both left them slightly unnerved. "Thank you, sweetheart. I just can't believe all the work you two have done! Everything looks great!" Delia exclaimed in amazement, truly thankful and shocked to be treated to such a thoughtful morning. All of it was simply overwhelming- a good kind of overwhelming that Delia surely didn't expect. And couldn't be angry with once seeing such genuine intentions being displayed.

Dani smiled back. "Any time." Then she sighed softly. "Well, I better get going."

Delia blinked in surprise as she watched her niece grab her purse, which was hanging on one of the kitchen chairs. "Oh, don't you wanna eat with us?" she assumed, gesturing back to the decorated table.

"I already snacked on a waffle only because_ Ash_ couldn't resist eating one himself," explained the girl, throwing her purse strap over her shoulder. That, of course, wasn't her real excuse for leaving. This was a special occasion for Delia, and considering this whole festive feast was Ash's idea, Dani felt he deserved a moment with his mom. They were the ones grieving, and feeling out of place, Dani decided to take her leave and for them to have some mother/son time alone.

But in regards to Dani's swift comment, two sets of eyes fell upon Ash, who was still standing by the waffle iron with the spatula in his hand. "What can I say?" he shrugged sheepishly at them. "Dani makes awesome waffles."

A smile could not resist its formation, following through with a shake of Delia's head. Typical Ash. "Well, thank you both so much," she thanked once more. "This is so sweet of you."

"You're welcome, Aunt Delia." With open arms, Dani accepted her aunt's brief hug to add to the already appreciative thank you. From there, they parted and Dani's eyes gravitated to Ash as she backed up towards the front door. "So I'll see you guys later?" Apparently, there was one last thing she needed clarification on.

"Yep," her cousin nodded. "We'll go pick up Brock later. I'll meet you at Grandma and Grandpa's around eleven, and then we'll go down to the dock to get him."

"Got it. Bye."

Finally making her exit, Dani waved one last time.

"Bye, Dani," Delia called again, as the girl was halfway through the door. "And thank you again!"

And with that, she nodded humbly and closed the door behind her. From there, Delia and Ash looked to each other. Ash had mentioned to Delia the night before that Brock would be arriving sometime that day, and now there was definite confirmation that he was coming around noon. She was ecstatic for Ash to at last have one his closest friends over during his summer break at home. Just as ecstatic as being unexpectedly graced with such kind gestures of affection. Not only was breakfast made and _served_ for Delia to savor, but the kitchen was near spotless and Ash had already attended to feeding Pikachu _and_ purchasing him a small bag of pokechow. Another delicate smile grew as Delia's eyes traveled over to the eating yellow mouse, munching down on his food happily out of his bowl on the floor. Then they flew back at the extraordinary deeds of generosities strewed across the kitchen. Two other findings in particular caught Delia's attention.

Ash really had outdone himself, and Delia couldn't have been more blessed to have such a caring and kindhearted son.

"So," she started slowly, throwing a playful eye at her son, "are there any other little recruits that helped in this undertaking?" She figured there _had_ to be others involved in this little surprise, for the heedful acts were likely linked to her other loving family members.

"They were all volunteers," Ash clarified just as mischievously, his smile still buoyant as ever. But soon, he fully clarified everything to his mom. "The flowers are from Grandma and Grandpa, and Michelle made you a raspberry pie _with_ a chocolate crust."

Delia's bemused expression grew. "She _made_ _me_ raspberry pie? It's my favorite!" This was simply too much! At this rate, Delia felt as if she was a princess, treated to some of her utmost favorite things in the world. Fruit pies and flowers. Two things she could not refuse. "And the dahlias..." Eyes were instantly drawn to the brilliantly colored jumbo and petite flowers on the table, the variations of dahlias all blending together in an elegant rainbow of hues. "They're beautiful," Delia soon breathed, fingers gently skimming the petals as she admired the pale pink glass vase they rested in. She still could not get over how wonderful everything was, how attentive her family had been during a time when she needed comfort most...

"Grandma picked them right out of her garden," Ash explained, settling two shot-glasses of mango juice on the table. "And Grandpa _tried_ to arrange them."

A soft chuckle slipped from Delia's lips. "That was very kind of them. All of you. I- I can't express how happy I am, Ash."

And there was no need for her to. Just by the instant shimmer in her eyes, her endless grins, and overall astounded voice and expression... Ash knew his mom was over the moon, especially when she abruptly threw her arms around him, enveloping him in a tight hug.

Ash's eyes closed, gently rubbing his mother's back. "I'm glad you're happy, Mom. We- we wanted you to be happy today." Evidently, she allowed a few tears to slip, for Ash had sworn he heard his mother sniffle, which he took as another sign of her satisfaction and gratefulness. Slowly, he tore away from Delia's grasp without a fight and gave her another big grin as he gestured to the table.

"So, ya wanna eat?" he started, glad to see a nod promptly given to him. "I'll let you get first dibs on either strawberry or chocolate-chip waffles. Whichever you'd prefer."

* * *

Winding roads and endless trails of cars zooming by them frustrated the two grunts disguised as innocent civilians. As if they were making no progress.

Which was the truth.

Angered by their eternal manhunt, Cassidy wrinkled the map in her grasp, the sides of it earning deep ugly crinkles as she released a low growl. "This is driving me crazy! Where does he think he's going?"

Even with infuriated violet eyes flashing to her partner, Butch remained focused on the busy road. "I don't know, Cass, but I can't take much more of driving around like this either," he admitted, his own thin patience wearing on being the selected driver while listening to her moan most of the time. "I feel like we've been going around in circles!"

"We_ have_, Bob," she countered, eyes rolling as she slammed her head back on the headrest. "God, where does Ketchum think he's going? He must be doing this on purpose!"

"Probably," grumbled Butch, fingers tightly clenched on the steering wheel. They had been on the move for days on end, tracking the device only to find it traveling down roads unexpected to the agents. They were now heading to Celadon, which they didn't expect to be in Ketchum's plan, much less understand _why_ he'd be taking such a route.

"Well, I've had it!" the female agent bellowed again. "Let's pull him over already!"

"Wha-what?!" Butch's eyes widened, his startled gaze darting back and forth between the road and his partner. "B-but Cassidy, what about the plan? What about calling the boss when we arrived in-"

"I said _now_, Hutch!"

Deciding it was for the best to be tactful so that their mission was fully completed, Cassidy did not want to inform Giovanni until they actually had Jay in their clutches and were on their way back to their hopefully jumping-for-joy boss. As instructed, the duo was supposed to have called Giovanni when the tracking device was clipped onto the car. Being the assertive and overall brains of the operation, Cassidy suddenly dismissed such commands and instead concocted her own agenda, wishing to impress their boss without him having to give orders for the next already expected step in their pursuit across Kanto.

Still, even as clever as Cassidy's idea was, Butch could not ignore her demanding growl and the classic gag of her never calling him by his correct name. Eyebrows furrowed intensively as the over-used name "Hutch" rang in his ears.

"It's Butch!" he snapped between his clenched teeth, though he submitted to her request by another extremely aggravated look. Ready to merge out of traffic and into another lane, he sighed and watched the cars behind him. _The things I put up with..._

With success, Butch was able to swivel into another lane, their car surprisingly speeding at a faster rate as they sped on. Steadily, Cassidy watched her own tracking device, her hands clamped tightly on it as theirs began to line up with the signal of the other.

"I'm picking up a signal," she announced, her voice riding with excitement. Then, her eyes shot open. "It's coming from that car!"

Wrinkling his forehead, Butch glanced at his partner and found her pointing towards the car directly across from them. An old dingy car that did not resemble the sleek midnight-colored vehicle their fellow grunts saw their target swerve away in.

"That car?" repeated Butch, addled. "That's not the one we tagged."

"Well the signal says it's coming from there!" argued Cassidy, knowing herself that it didn't make sense. She grasped the device tighter with aggravation, breathing out a heavy huff. "Unless we tagged the _wrong_ vehicle-"

"There's no way," he cut her off with certainty, shaking his head. "Unless..."

As they dashed by, taking a closer look with squinting eyes, there was an old couple who could hardly see seated in the front, driving ever so slowly.

Not Jayce Ketchum.

* * *

She had woken up with a refreshing start, though the dreariness at the Pokémon Center's cafeteria table left her feeling otherwise.

Sitting silently as she cut up her pancakes, Misty observed both her traveling companions and their awkward states. Drake seemed to be forcing smiles upon his lips, making minimal lighthearted conversations as they savored their breakfast. While Jay, on the other hand, wore that ornate poker face he always bore, but for some reason seemed more exaggerated than usual, as if he was putting a wall between himself and the reality around him. Lazily, he poked at his low-quality pancakes, then would occasionally peer up at a couple sitting ahead of them, whose jovial laughter and flirtatious comments were easy to overhear. Within time, Misty noticed such and looked over her shoulder to fully understand why the giggling match made in heaven was so fascinating to periodically observe. And she couldn't. Up until this point, the three of them were having a decent time in Saffron, much less stressful than their stops in Fuchsia and Vermillion. Team Rocket was nowhere in sight, and they were able to stock up on supplies without any complications. All seemed peaceful and content, a chance for their heartrates to ease and for their Pokémon to at last earn the break from battling that they so righteously deserved. Misty would have thought Jay out of all of them would be the most enthralled by these developments. Yet, here he was, sitting in silence with an unreadable expression running across his face, then back at that affectionate couple, then to the gold band on his wedding ring finger...

Misty's mouth turned into a frown as she soon saw the man fixate on his wedding band aimlessly, wondering what exactly was going through his head now. Drake too was also catching on to his strange behavior, explaining why he was struggling to find topics to converse over. But before he had a chance to speak whatever was coming to his mind, Jay abruptly got up from his seat, shoved his hands in his jean pockets and began to stroll away.

Drake's mouth remained slightly open as he gleamed over his shoulder. "Where are you going?" he demanded innocently.

Jay froze in his tracks, and his eyes just barely peered back at his brother. "I'm gonna call Sam and switch out some of my Pokémon." And with that, he wandered off.

His response declared his intentions openly, yet it was still somehow cold and distant as he casually walked to one of the unoccupied video phones. Turning back around in his seat, Drake exhaled a breath through his nostrils and took a swig of his nearly finished coffee. Misty watched him closely, though her tone remained neutral and upbeat.

"So do you think we'll be leaving Saffron today?" she asked, seeing the unexplained tension had left the table.

Drake sat his paper cup with a fit lid down. "Tomorrow morning we will," he answered, another quick glance he gave to his distant brother awakening Misty's curiosity.

Usually Jay was the one to make the final decision; however, it appeared he had hardly been talkative that bright morning. Misty swore that frown plastered so stoically on his face had not lifted once since they emerged fully dressed out of their rooms, and his blue eyes cast a sharp, icy hue as they stared coldly into his slowly chilling coffee. Besides selecting what meal he wanted in line at the Pokémon Center's cafeteria, he hadn't uttered a word. Neither Misty nor Drake pushed him to speak, though the redhead was surprised Drake _hadn't_ bothered trying to get a word out of Jay. In most instances, they would talk casually leaving Misty room to jump in on the conversation whatever it may be. But this time...something was off. As if somber sadness had claimed Jay's face and took residence with his willing permission.

Muddled by it all, Misty shook her head and soon timid eyes gleamed up at the man across from her. "Um, Drake? I- I don't mean to pry but- is something wrong with Mr. Ketchum?" she eventually questioned, once Jay was a good distance away from their table. "He just seems kind of down."

Drake's brows lowered and he peeked back at his brother again. "Today is just…not a good day for him," replied the islander, as if the matter was complicated. Then, he sighed and returned his gaze to the perplexed girl. "You see, Misty...today marks Jay's wedding anniversary."

A small gasp escaped. "Oh! I- I had no idea-"

"It's okay," assured Drake with a soft raise of his hand. "After knowing Jay for so long I've picked up on all his quirks and moods- And I can't say I blame him for feeling so...glum," he summed up, tossing his crinkled napkin onto his now empty plate. He, after all, didn't even need to ask his brother what was wrong, for he too knew of the impending date and had been quietly dreading it for Jay's own sake.

Misty nodded understandingly. She was sure the concept of a man who still genuinely loved his wife and was forced to be separated from her by a death threat for nearly ten years was a complicated matter of the heart. And she was definite she couldn't comprehend any of it. "He must be devastated," she assumed, sympathetic dejection vivid in her voice. "Not being able to spend today with her...or any of his other anniversaries for that matter."

"There's no denying that. I couldn't even imagine what he's feeling right now... But he'll be okay," Drake sooner than later reassured to comfort their minds. "He always bounces back. Just give him until tomorrow."

"All right."

Both trainers hoped that was the case, and with the certain positivity in Drake's voice Misty wanted to believe that with all her might. Neither one of them expected Jay to handle the situation as if it meant nothing to him, for he was obviously emotionally torn up about it. Beating himself up internally for the silence and the pain he had unintentionally caused both himself and Delia. On a daily basis, he was involuntarily pushed to face those harsh reminders, but on a day like this, one could only imagine the aches would worsen to a whole new level of hurt.

Slowly, Misty's gaze gravitated to the large windows ahead of her. A wedding on a day just like this... A July wedding with all the flowers blooming, the sun out and shining, and to bask so happily in the warm glow of the earth without a care in the world, walking arm in arm... It was a bittersweet, picture-perfect reality that was now far out of reach.

"I think I'm going to try to cheer him up later today," Drake suddenly proposed, snapping Misty back to reality. "Maybe take him out for a beer just to help clear his head."

Nodding again, the redhead smiled, her earlier thoughts drifting away. "I understand."

"We'll only be gone for dinner, but we'll be back at the center before it gets too late. Then we can leave tomorrow morning. How does that sound?"

Since Jay was apparently out of commission for at least twenty-four hours, Drake decidedly filled in all the blanks for their awaiting agenda. And Misty had no complaints on his itinerary for the day.

"That's fine with me, Drake."

"And I wouldn't want to confine you, Misty, but with Team Rocket after us... I think both Jay and I would prefer if you stayed here while we're out. So you're safe," he declared, reasonably a somewhat protective fatherly tone bearing in his vocal cords. Jay must have been rubbing off on him. "But before dinner, we can go do whatever you want."

"Sounds like a fair compromise," she replied again without fight. The agreement was very much sensible, since Misty could see Jay was in need of some comfort, in whatever form that would be. If a casual drink and dinner with his brother would do the trick, then Misty was all for it. Anything logical and safe to help ease the pain so they could hit the road once more with clear and focused heads. However, she felt the need to voice one last thing. One last request, specifically.

"And uh, Drake?" Misty called for his attention again. He looked up to her, calmly anticipating her response. Then, her eyes helplessly journeyed to the direction were the video phones sat. She sucked in a deep breath. "If you get the chance- could you, well, give Mr. Ketchum my, um...condolences?"

To Misty's relief, a smile bloomed. "Of course."

* * *

After meeting at their grandparents' house as promised, the walk to Pallet's dock was pleasant.

The slight breeze in the air eased the soaring temperature as the afternoon set in. Today was warned to be scorcher, having Dani and Ash dress perfectly for the occasion. They were content in their shorts and light t-shirts, but in the back of their minds they were itching to fetch Brock and head back to the house where fans were buzzing with cool air, comfortable enough for them to wish to sit directly in front of.

"So I'm excited to meet Brock," declared Dani as they strolled down the road. "From what you said, it sounds like we have a lot in common."

"Yeah, you guys do," replied Ash, his hands resting behind his head with Pikachu seated on top of his hat. Dani and Brock could relate to one another, both being knowledgeable of Pokémon, excellent cooks, and the fact that Brock originally dreamed of becoming a breeder like she currently was pursuing... Thinking about such commonalities made Ash instantly realize something _else_ Brock also adored.

Compatibility.

Shuffling feet ended their travels as Ash froze momentarily. His throat went dry, and he was sure it was more than just the sweltering sun getting to his parched mouth. "...Uh, Dani?" he called weakly, having her twirl around.

"Yeah?" she answered, confused by why her cousin slowed the pace to their destination.

A bite followed down upon Ash's lip as he looked away. He wasn't sure how to say this without possibly frightening Dani, or angering her. She could be, on rare occasions, a tad hot-tempered. But unlike his own flare of low tolerance, Dani's wore over a period of time, and with legitimate reasoning. Dealing with uncalled behavior tended to set her off, which caused Ash to worry if she'd-

"There's one more thing you should know about Brock," he finally said, regaining volume in his voice.

This only furthered to perplex the lavender haired girl. "Um, okay. What is it?"

How could he say it without sending the wrong message, the teenager pondered, putting a finger to his chin. Blunt, Ash supposed, was the best way to go.

"He likes girls."

Dani was stumped. "...Okay?"

"I mean- he goes _crazy_ when he sees a pretty girl," the teenager quickly clarified.

Then, to further Ash's already flustered state a cheeky grin pursed on Dani's lips. "Ash, are you calling me pretty?" she teased jokingly.

"You know what I mean!" Ash huffed, catching on to her harmless playfulness. "I think _Brock's_ gonna think you're pretty." It was as if a little brother admitted a positive quality about his big sister, which Ash couldn't help but think of Dani as. And well, she just appeared to fit Brock's specifications. "You see, he's gets all googly-eyed and starts saying some- pretty bold stuff. Close to declarations of love, I guess," he soon shrugged.

That accusation Ash could vouch for on _several_ occasions, with witness to make his claim all the more bona fide. All his past traveling companions who had accompanied him and Brock knew of his friend's rather persistent need to proclaim his outward and random affections for attractive young ladies. Times even at home, Ash recalled Brock doing such. The waitresses and a couple of the sous chefs who worked for Leah, Michelle, and Delia sticking out in his mind predominately and their not so understanding reactions. Not to mention, Brock's innocent attentiveness to_ Delia _which Ash didn't quite figure out till Misty had, in annoyance and exhaustion of course, explained their friend's little crush to the seemingly disgusted boy. Though Ash supposed it shouldn't have surprised him, for Brock also lightly gushed at Misty's sisters whenever they visited the Cerulean Gym. He was just a good guy who always seemed to fall hopelessly in love. Ash just hoped he wouldn't cross the line too far in regards to Dani and her understanding need for personal space.

But he wasn't going to hold his breath.

Studying Ash's face and words, Dani's peculiarity heightened. "Should I be worried?" she instead retorted, folding her arms over her chest.

"Ah, nah," he waved dismissively. "He'll simmer down after a while. And if not, I'll step in."

At first, Dani wanted to assume it was Ash embellishing things, considering he wasn't a huge fan of anything involving budding romance. And even if that wasn't the case, she was sure Brock meant well after hearing so many wonderful qualities and acts the young man performed. Who knew, maybe he _was_ a real catch. Not that she was exactly looking for a boyfriend, not with her career underway in its infantile stage...

"That's...comforting," she at last said, her worries slowly increasing at her cousin's promise "to step in" if things got out of hand. Still, she shook whatever impending thoughts spun in her mind, and the pair continued their walk over to the dock.

In no time at all the trainers arrived at Pallet's little dock, appearing right on the dot. The atmosphere was quiet and tranquil as a few others waited to see familiar faces come off the small liner. As the liner drew closer, it stopped at a sluggish rate, allowing passengers to leisurely make their way off and onto the boardwalk and then to solid land. The two trainers searched about aimlessly, glancing from left to right as the cluster of people began to dissipate into smaller groups of close friends and relatives. And eventually, with a hand capped over his eyes from the blaring sun, Ash spotted a tall, fit, and dark-complexioned young man with a backpack strapped on, and he was also searching for his friend.

Ash's smile grew.

"Hey, Brock! Over here!" he hollered as he waved one of his arms up in the air, while his other hand was cuffed around his mouth.

Immediately, the Pokémon doctor-in-the-making picked up the sound of Ash's voice and swiveled on his feet. He twirled around just as fast as he captured the sound of his friend's call, and Brock's expression lightened. He too grinned and raised his arm. "Oh, hey Ash!- _HOLY COOOOW_!"

Then, to Ash's predicament,_ it_ came.

Clouds of dust flew behind Brock's hurrying feet, his speed exhilarating till he nearly slammed one of his knees into the ground, kneeling right before his friend and the ravishing stranger before him. Taken aback, Dani's feet shuffled backwards but her hand was latched into Brock's grasp, unprepared for what was to come next. "My heart is bursting with complete endearment for you!" he unexpectedly announced with charismatic charm, and loudly with passion, to boot. "I am so thankful that a creature such as yourself has been so humbly graced in my presence! May I ask your name, whose hair is as beautiful as a field of wild lavender?"

Only a twitch of her eye came from a speechless Dani, her mouth agape as a nervous grin grew from her lips. Beside her, Ash leaned in and sweat-dropped. "See what I mean?" he chuckled weakly, though all he earned from his cousin was an indistinct croak from her throat. When Brock had a moment of losing his normal collective self for a pretty girl, Ash wished Misty was around. For her to be by his side, take control, play babysitter to Brock, and knock some sense back into his mushy brain with a harsh tug of his ear. Ah, those were the good ol' times. And it almost felt like a throwback to their early training days, if she was there to be a part of it all...

Focusing back on the task of getting Brock to ease up, Ash began to explain the girl's presence. "Brock, this is my cousin Dani. You know, Aunt Ophelia's daughter? I've mentioned her before," he stated calmly, hoping he was listening.

And boy, Brock was.

"Ah, so you're the talented and beautiful Danielle!" the young man concluded, his smile magnetic as a twinkle flashed in his eyes.

"I had no idea I was talented...or beautiful," Dani sweat-dropped with a very sheepish smile. Never could she recall a time where a young man expressed such flowery words of adoration for her, nor gazed into her eyes so fondly. It was strange, to put it lightly, yet somehow flattering all at once.

Her hand still lay limp in Brock's grip, but he tightened his hold as his big endearing grin grew. "Well then, you haven't heard the truth enough! How 'bout when we get back to the house, I fix you guys up some grub?" he suddenly offered, rising from his kneeled position on the ground but still gripping Dani's hand in his gentle touch. "Is there anything in particular that you would care for, Dani?"

Dani's eyes darted to the side. "Um, well- Brock, you don't have to go to all that trouble. I mean, you're _our_ guest-"

"But I insist! Name anything you like and I will make it!"

He leaned in as she drew away with an arched back, his voice very adamant with sincerity before spinning her around. "If you say so," she nearly yelped, following Brock's lead.

With speedy steps Ash caught up with them, sighing as he assessed the situation. He didn't even have a second to catch up with his old companion, for all he appeared to be fixated on was the blessing of being in a girl's company. Ash couldn't blame him and expected such from Brock, but he _would_ have liked a genuine exchange before Brock lost his marbles for the day. And so, as his friend walked down the road with such swagger and confidence, Ash wasn't sure if maybe it was best to send Dani home for the day.

After all, with her around, was Brock _ever_ going to break out of his lovey-dovey trance?

* * *

"It's about time we got a break. My feet are killing me!"

Groaning from hurting feet, an achy back, and the fact that she chipped her nail polish, Jessie ripped off one of her high-heels and massaged the ball of her foot. James laid against the wall, his arms resting behind his head as he cocked an open eye at his partner in crime.

"I told you not to wear those shoes," he reminded like a nagging parent. That morning, he had mentioned that, as waiters, they'd probably be up on their feet constantly for a good few hours, but Jessie wasn't ready to sacrifice beauty for freedom from pain. Though to the man's astonished state, she had kept her temper fairly even and pleasant till she grumbled an occasional curse word or derogatory name as she passed by James, which he silently knew she was infuriated with a difficult or needy customer.

"Yes, but they went _well_ with my outfit!" she snapped back sharply, wincing as her fingers continued to work their magic against her sore muscles. Soon after, a faint growl erupted from her stomach. "Oh, and I'm so hungry," she admitted pathetically, her gaze cast down to the floor then to James with a begging shimmer in her eyes. "Snag me a dessert from the fridge won't you, James? Coconut cake, preferably."

James stood up straight and frowned. "But Jessie, those are for the customers-"

"And that matters to you, _because_?"

Did he need to be reminded they were _criminals_, working for Kanto's biggest _illegal_ organization? Stealing a measly slice of cheesecake or a double-chocolate brownie was hardly a crime compared to what was usually asked of them from their boss. And since when did James put up a fuss about getting a free meal?

Narrowed blue eyebrows flashed their way at Jessie. "Because I don't want to blow our cover!" he hissed lowly, eyes scanning the surrounding area as it bustled to keep up with the large lunch crowd. Then, a sigh followed in a calmer tone. "This is a big deal, Jess. The boss is_ counting_ on us-"

"I know that!" scoffed the undercover agent, slipping her heel back on. "You don't have to remind me, James. I'm not an imbecile! Besides, I already _have_ an idea to help us get on the boss's good side and to set our mission in motion."

The forming of a mischievous smirk and the flip of her dark red wig worried James, wondering what exactly Jessie had up her sleeve this time. Up until now, their plan had actually been executed fairly flawlessly; still, with the daunting repetition of their efforts ending in failure, the man couldn't help but feel impending apprehension. Maybe Jessie wasn't_ always_ an imbecile, but she was a schemer whose plans had a_ horrible_ track record of actually succeeding due to her rash compulsions. And that's what worried James.

Nevertheless, he heard her out.

"And what might that be?"

"Just watch."

By a motioning of her head, James's expression perked up and he discreetly watched her casually stroll over to the front desk. Standing before it, sorting through what looked like invitations about to be mailed out, was Leah. She was concentrating on her task, though the meek sound of Jessie prompted the older woman to abandon her task.

"Oh, Mrs. Parker?" she called sweetly, putting her classic "acting face" on and ready for anything to come next.

Gradually, Leah held her gaze and grinned softly. "Please, call me Leah, Celia," she insisted, briefly abandoning her task.

Jessie's smile showed teeth, resisting a giggle in the back of her throat. "All right,_ Leah_. I, uh, didn't see your daughter around. Is she sick or something?" Taking notice of it earlier on in the day, Jessie hadn't seen Princess Aurora singing good morning to any Pidgey outside the window or asking any Rattata out in the garden to gather and harvest nuts for whatever reason a princess would ask such an absurd request.

She shook her head. "Oh, no. Delia just took the day off. That's all."

Putting on a more drastic quizzical face, Jessie wasn't finished pumping the innkeeper for information. "Isn't she in charge of the party planning, though?" she asked again, cocking her head to the side with an innocent stare.

"Yes and no," Leah replied casually, fixated on sorting and shuffling invites while occasionally flashing Jessie a smile. "She, Michelle, and I are working together. It's a group effort."

"That's so nice to hear a family working _so hard_ together!" the disguised agent stressed with overdone passion, leaning in on the edge of the desk with her hands. Then, she slouched casually and placed a puzzled finger on her chin. "Say, when is the big bash, anyway? Silly me, I forgot all about it when you mentioned it in our last meeting!"

A smile stayed perfectly still on Jessie's face as Leah cocked a strange eye. Nonetheless, she shrugged it off as the young woman being rather...quirky.

"In about two and a half weeks," she said. Unfortunately, from all the gabbing, she had lost her place in the grand arranging of invitations. Now she'd have to reorganize the last set all over again on a specific street, and she knew how particular Tom was, considering he was the designated mail-carrier and instructed her to have the envelopes categorized by street and last name. It was a real headache and lots of needless trouble for a man who had _volunteered_ to lend a hand in the first place.

Fingers fiddled with the strewn envelopes, only to have another question be interjected. Leah held her frustration within.

"Around what time?" she heard Jessie inquire.

"Seven o'clock," she sighed, assuming the woman meant well, "and it'll last a couple of hours."

"So you'll need my husband and me the whole time? I uh- just want to make sure so our calendar is clear and that we're available!"

Blowing her cover with continual questions was not on Jessie's agenda. Being thorough with her investigation was. Impressing the boss was vitally important, and the crafty agent was prepared to do as much digging as she could, since every other attempt she and her partners made ended in utter disaster. But for this mission, Jessie was to conceal her identity- even though her eagerness for dirt on every aspect of the celebration was earning her a rather peculiar look.

A nervous laugh emerged from her throat.

Leah studied her for a moment, but again, shook off whatever odd feeling she was experiencing. "Of course," she answered pleasantly. "We most certainly will need all the help we can get from our entire staff."

Silently, Jessie was relieved. "I see. And the twer-" A mental kick in the head was received at her second close mishap. Then, she composed herself. "I mean _the_ _young man_ and girl who were here about a, uh- week ago? Will they be helping out? I'm sorry if I sound so nosy, I just didn't catch their names. I wasn't sure if they were working for you."

At the mention of the two young adults, it seemed as if Leah's face brightened with proud affection. "You must be talking about my grandchildren. Ash and Dani."

_Grandchildren? _Last time Jessie checked, Priscilla Lane _only_ had a _son. _Not a son _and_ a daughter. Evidently, the woman with the looks of a forties movie star had a sister or brother, making Jessie internally groan. There were _enough_ twerps circling around the earth, and she didn't need to meet another one who was _directly_ related to the twerp she despised most.

"Since they're home for the summer, they've volunteered to help. I'll have to introduce them to you sometime soon."

Leah made the meet and greet sound _so_ delightfully alluring, yet Jessie had her own feelings on the matter.

_Oh, no need for that!_ the woman grimaced mentally, withstanding the need to scoff and release a twitch of her eye. "We'll certainly have to do that soon! I would be more than happy to meet them formally." The words- in her opinion- sounded and felt so obviously obligatory to mutter. She just hoped Leah didn't come to the same conclusion.

And she didn't.

"I'm sure they'd like that. And by the way, Celia, I wanted to tell you and Jason that at closing time we'll have a brief meeting about the party. If you have any further questions, you can ask them then." That way, she could actually get_ something_ accomplished before it was her time for a well-deserved lunch-break.

Hearing such needed confirmation brightened Jessie's expression, and for a mere moment, erased her bottled anger towards pretending to be introduced to the twerp. "Thank you for letting me know!" she exclaimed with immense gratitude, a wave soon following after. "Talk to you later, Leah."

As Jessie cautiously walked away from the front desk, a server holding a nearly empty tray approached Leah with an apparent question. They swerved past Jessie with a polite "excuse me," and while replying to their courtesy, she discreetly picked something up and placed it into her clutches. The vital information she effortlessly squeezed out of Leah not only put the grunt in a gleeful state, but also made her forget about her aching feet. Or, at least, end the mind-numbing bellyaching. For once, maybe she, James, and Meowth had a chance at earning Giovanni's approval!

It took Jessie a few minutes, but soon she pranced back to a waiting James, holding a pen she had pulled out of her messy bun and what looked like a small wrinkled piece of- a napkin?

"Here."

Raising an eyebrow in perplexity, James observed Jessie and continued to do so as he took the napkin she outwardly prompted him to take into his possession. He held it between his hands, bringing the napkin up to his face as he read the first note jotted down. Then, he looked up at her. "What's this?"

"Keep it in your pocket," Jessie instead instructed in a quiet voice. "Nearly everything the boss needs to know about this little shindig is written right here."

"On this napkin," he more so stated than asked. For a moment, he scrutinized his partner's messy writing; granted, she was scribbling the notes down while walking. But still, would it have killed Jessie to have found a piece of paper? That way, he wouldn't have to suffer with her crude handwriting on such an uneven surface. And so, he questioned her choices. "Couldn't you have gotten a piece of paper?"

An eye roll proceeded. "Well, a piece of paper wasn't exactly readily available to me, James!" she not surprisingly snapped. "Now just take it!" She didn't want to forget a single tidbit, and conveniently the leftover napkin was there at the right time.

"Why can't you?" he challenged once more, confused as to why he had to be the one in charge of guarding the sacred napkin, what was normally used to wipe one's hands or face. Not hold important information for their criminal employer.

"Because I don't have a pocket!" she explained loudly, only for her to realize that the projection of her voice was attracting unwanted eyes. Both an uneasy chuckle and grin morphed. "There's nothing to see here. Everything's just fine!" she reassured hastily, and while it sent other staff members back to minding their own business, Jessie could feel their eyes penetrating the back of her head with suspicion.

"We'll call the boss after work and inform him," Jessie started to explain to a befuddled James, collecting herself with a whisper. "Apparently, there's a last minute meeting us 'members' of the staff need to attend. And hopefully..." she added, blue eyes leading back to Leah. Then, they hardened.

"Hopefully we'll get more information out of _granny-twerp_."

* * *

He was chopping vegetables like a madman, slapping layers of various expensive cheeses and meats onto plump sandwiches like there was no tomorrow, and then, without a single drop missing the bowl, poured a chilled homemade brood of vanilla rice pudding before stuffing it in the fridge for dessert.

Dani sat and watched the skittering Brock in stupefaction. She remembered Ash mentioning Brock was an excellent cook and great at multitasking, but she never envisioned being wowed by his doings with such awe and shock. He was, by her definition, a master at working double-time that most men would envy for his fast-paced and perfectly executed work. Wiping his brow with the back of his hand, Brock speedily picked up two pitchers filled with two different kinds of liquids, approaching the kitchen table at which Ash and Dani sat. They were in the middle of enjoying lunch, Pikachu too nibbling on his own meal and then snagging a few bites from Ash's plate. And while they both urged Brock to take and seat and join them, he declined till all his work was through. He didn't mind cooking and he certainly didn't mind cleaning up the mess so Delia wouldn't have a mountain full of dishes in her squeaky-clean sink.

Coming to them with full swishing pitchers, Brock dispersed the liquid into their half-empty glasses and balanced a small bag of his freshly baked treats while doing so. "More lemonade for you, Ash. More homemade treats for you Pikachu, and more peach tea for_ you_, Dani," he emphasized with another silly grin, his elegant pouring slipping just as much as the goofy look plastered on his face.

And it took Ash's call of his voice to make the infatuated trainer notice. "Uh Brock," he started slowly, Pikachu's mouth halfway opened as Ash held the treat for him in midair, "you're kinda spilling tea all over the table."

It only took one blink for Brock to at last see the evidence below, how he had unintentionally made Dani's glass overflow and splash onto the table. "Oh, shoot!" he shrieked, wanting to beat himself over the head for being so distracted by her glowing face. Hurriedly and in disarray, Brock glanced between the messy table and then to the counter, finally deciding to set the pitcher down and reach for the wet washcloth by the sink. Adding more soap to the cloth, and ringing out excess water, he slapped it onto the table and began mopping up his accidental spill, ever so apologetic. "I'm so sorry, Dani-"

"It's okay," Dani assured evenly, holding her hand up to ease his upset voice. "No biggie."

Immediately, he grinned again at her passive nature, pleased and relieved she didn't find him to be a total jittery, blundering fool. Well, at least she didn't_ outwardly_ declare such. Turning on his feet, he rung out the cloth again in the sink and added more foaming soap to it.

Leaning to the side in her seat towards her cousin, Dani sighed as she continued to watch Brock. "Well, if I know one thing for certain about Brock, he's very- attentive," she decided to say, finding it to be the best word choice to describe him in her very short time of getting to know him.

"That's putting it lightly," Ash sweat-dropped. At last, Ash finally remembered to give Pikachu his treat, and it was apparently his last for the afternoon for the mouse bounced off the table and bounded happily into the living room to curl up for an afternoon nap. Ash grinned at this, and allowed his furry friend to take a snooze. It was incredibly hot, and he knew how much the heat tuckered both him and his lil' buddy out.

With the less noticeable tints of pink across his cheeks, Brock turned back around, washed the table once more, and then threw the wet cloth back on the edge between the two divided sinks. "So uh, ahem!" he started, adjusting his voice as he composed himself. He wanted to change the subject desperately.

"What do you guys think of your sandwiches?" he asked, one of his palms leaning on the back of a chair, the other hand resting on his hip with a bright glimmer of confidence. He just hoped it was enough to get Dani's attention.

"They're great, Brock," Ash replied, though the teenager never once criticized his friend's knack for cooking.

"I think it's one of the best sandwiches I've ever had," gushed Dani, who sincerely couldn't believe how incredible it all tasted.

And Brock was tickled pink.

"Really?" he egged for more, leaning further across the table. "You mean that?"

"Sure. I really liked the tomato pesto spread."

"I can give you the recipe if you like it that much," he hurriedly proposed, not wanting this chance of bonding to slip.

"Sounds great! I appreciate it."

Another giddy smile formed and the blushing returned. "No problem _at all_-"

"Say Brock, how was your time in Fuchsia?" Ash abruptly cut in, drumming his fingers on the table. "You haven't talked about it much." He interrupted most notably because of Brock encroaching closer onto his cousin, but also due to the fact that Ash was dying to know about Fuchsia. And the _other_ person his close friend was spending time with...

Instantly, Brock's mind went blank, his mouth firmly shut. He was too preoccupied getting to know Dani when they waltzed back to Ash's house, nearly forgetting his intentions of_ calling_ Misty and scheduling a time to visit Prof. Oak. Ash couldn't know that, though.

The wheels in the young man's head began to spin. "Oh uh, it was- fine," Brock managed to sputter, knowing however it wouldn't be enough to satisfy Ash.

"Just fine?" Ash repeated with puzzlement, wondering what that connotation meant.

"Well, _more_ than fine."

"Then what did you and Misty do while you guys were there? How is she um- doing?" Ash choked, his flustered gaze wandering to the side. He too was being cautious of his word choice and tone, praying that the anxiousness in his voice wasn't perceptible to those around him.

In that instance, Brock observed Ash with attentive wonder and curiosity. On instinct, he wanted to smile, simply because his behavior showcased his outward affection for Misty. On the other hand, smiles of glee and innocently poking fun at his friend as he blossomed in the romance department could not be permitted. Words had to be considered carefully of their time in Fuchsia and, if brought up, Misty's whereabouts.

"Uh we- I attended her panel and um, afterwards we watched her sisters' show. Which was very nice," he started slowly, sticking to safe topics. After all, they weren't lies. He just- wasn't expanding upon the whole truth. "And Misty's- great," he shrugged. "She's doing really well with the gym and everything."

Before Ash could interject to ask another question that Brock would prefer to refrain from speaking about, Dani jumped in. "Don't her sisters do those underwater ballet shows?" she questioned, stirring her drink aimlessly with her straw. "Ash was telling me about it. I bet they're _amazing_ to watch."

A silent thanks was given to Dani from Brock, though he knew if he said it out loud she wouldn't quite understand.

"Uh, yeah," he replied, his tone a tad more relaxed. "They do, and the shows are quite spectacular-"

"Ash, I'm home! Ash?"

Everyone's mouths stayed open in midair, their ears deciphering where the sudden voice originated from. It was an agreeable and light voice, indicating to Ash immediately who it was. The person who had nagged him for nearly sixteen years to brush his teeth, pick up his room, and to _always_ be safe on the road. Ash wanted to grin at her arrival, but couldn't, seeing he was slightly frustrated with Brock at the moment. Why couldn't he get much out of him? And why was he discussing Misty in such a plain and wary way?

A soft groan fell from the teenager's mouth. "We're in here, Mom!" he hollered, announcing to her that there was more than one person in the house.

Soft footsteps journeyed into the kitchen, announcing Delia's presence fully to the three trainers as she rounded the corner.

"Hey, Mrs. K," greeted Brock with a friendly wave. Being back in the house, interacting with Ash's family- it brought back heartwarming memories to Brock, realizing how much he had subconsciously missed those lazy but zany days in Pallet.

Delia's warm expression lightened as she met Brock's cheery face, her arms full of a couple bags of groceries while holding a few ripe tomatoes she picked from the garden on her way in. "Oh, hi Brock! It's so nice to see you again," she said sincerely as she roamed past the kitchen table. "How are you doing, dear?"

"Pretty good." He stopped himself there, however, witnessing the woman momentarily struggle with the load of groceries in her possession. So, as expected, he stepped up to the plate and helped. "Here, let me get that for you."

Before she could assure that she was capable of handling the bags out of courtesy, Delia was thankful for Brock's intervention. Finally giving her poor arms a break.

"Oh well, thank you," she said as he scooped the fullest bag from her hold with ease. "I can see you're still has helpful as ever!" she chuckled, subconsciously glad to have an extra set of hands around the house that didn't mind offering their services.

Brock grinned sheepishly. "Of course."

Situating the bags she could carry onto the counter, Delia flashed another polite smile at their houseguest. "So how was the ride over to Pallet?" she began to inquire, pulling out the purchased contents from the large paper-bag. "Did Ash remember to show up at the right time?"

The playfulness in Delia's tone was established in Ash's ears, yet he couldn't resist the frown seeping from his lips. Punctuality was never one of Ash's best qualities, and while he was aware of such, he didn't need his _mother_ to remind him in front of his friends. Even if she was joking around.

"Uh, _yeah_, Mom," groaned Ash, rolling his eyes as he leaned back in his seat. He had only told her a dozen times when he was supposed to fetch Brock, and that he swore he wouldn't forget.

In return, Delia kept smiling and gently smashed her son's hat, her hand innocently messing with his already entangled tresses. Then, she patted his shoulder. "That's my boy."

Brock chortled at their playful banter, Ash's cranky expression drifting over to his mom as she strolled to a set of cabinets. Then, he centered himself. "The ride over was nice. Got lots of water scenery to admire," he embellished lightly.

"I can imagine," replied Delia, now pulling out a jug of milk and a package of chicken wings after putting a jar of peanut butter away.

The light-pink fleshed meat, to no one's surprise, enticed Ash out of his perturbed state, rising from his seat and drawing close to his mom. "Ooo, are those chicken wings?" he asked, looming over her shoulder with a glisten in his eyes, his mouth close to watering as he imagined what that raw meat could be scrumptiously transformed into.

Delia expected such enthusiasm from her son's ongoing appetite, and smiled softly as she walked over to the freezer. "They're for tonight. Since we have guests," she explained, motioning to Brock and Dani, "I thought it would be nice to treat ourselves to _barbecued_ chicken wings."

As if he had been told the most fantastic news in the world, Ash pumped his arms up in the air. "All right!" he exclaimed, excited to have one of his favorite homemade meals. "You're the best, Mom!"

"Thanks, Aunt Delia," Dani chimed in, still sitting at the table. "That's really kind of you."

"Sure thing, sweetie. I know they're a _favorite_ around the house," she stated, her eyes exaggerating their attention over to her now perky son.

Ash laughed back as he crashed down in his seat. "You bet they are!"

Who knew barbecued chicken could work wonders on Ash's mood, especially after how Brock had been dancing around the topic of Misty? But the older trainer was grateful for such, seeing he was still figuring out how to handle the situation with Ash.

"Speaking of food, would you like something to eat, Mrs. Ketchum?" Brock offered, gesturing towards the fridge. He imagined she hadn't eaten yet and after all the work the woman committed herself to, Brock never minded making the hardworking mother lunch. "I can fix anything you'd like-"

"It's okay, Brock. But I appreciate your thoughtfulness," declined Delia politely. "I'm actually going to go for a walk. With how warm it is out there, I better go put on sunscreen first!" she exclaimed bubbly, gesturing towards the stairs.

Brock nodded. "Yeah, it's a real scorcher today. Enjoy your walk."

"Thank you." Turning on her feet, Delia held Ash's gaze, lowering as she patted him gently on the shoulder. "I'll be home in a couple of hours, Ash."

As she hurriedly began to walk off, Ash quirked a brow. "Uh, okay. But um, where are you walking to, Ma?"

"Oh, just- down the road," she managed to sputter, still bearing a very dubious grin. "The scenery's so pretty, especially on a day like this!"

"Yeah, it is," her son agreed steadily. Maybe he was reading into her mannerisms, but something felt off with Delia. And he was beginning to wonder if it had anything to with him... Nonetheless, Ash didn't want to dishearten his mother, or speculate something that might not ever be there. It was just that it was _awfully_ hot, and there was only one place in Ash's mind where he'd believe she'd journey to...

Trying not to permit his skepticism to show, Ash grew a faint smile. "Have a good time, Mom."

"Thank you, honey. Enjoy your lunch, kids!" she waved one last time and was soon making headway into the living room.

Brock and Dani both called back with thanks, but Ash couldn't do so. He was too submersed in thought, and contemplated investigating.

As for Delia, knowing her soon-to-be whereabouts were cemented in her son's mind, she moseyed out of the living room, up the stairs, and to her bedroom. She could still hear the kids laughing and talking downstairs, which made the woman smile faintly to herself, happy to hear her son content in the company of close friends. Once closing the door behind her with a soft click, Delia pranced over to her dresser, knelt slightly, and opened one of the bottom drawers. All her workout clothes lay inside, having her pick out a light peach t-shirt, charcoal colored sweats, and a sports bra. They all were draped across her arm as she closed the drawer shut, rising from her crouched position and meeting her reflection in her vanity mirror. She stared into the clear glass, fingers delicately running down her cheek. So many years had gone by. She was obviously blessed with youthful looks, hardly looking a day over twenty-eight, and yet she still felt older. She was no longer the frightened twenty-four year old woman who suddenly had to face the terrifying reality of raising her six-year-old son all on her own. Without him...

Fingers instantly coiled into a fist, Delia's mouth tightly shut in a subtle frown. From there, her fist fell against her chest, and the intense fluctuating of it commenced. At that moment, just for a second, she wanted to be wrapped in a warm eternal embrace, arms tenderly tucked around her small waist with a firm chin resting between her neck and shoulder. Faint puffs of breath would fall from the presence's lips, and enticing words would make her tremble in his grasp. Limp and feeling utterly secure as her mind would slip with only thoughts of his words fluttering blissfully in her head. Memories of their faded love... Realizing all of that was out of her grasp, Delia stiffened. She should have hated him. Yet she couldn't. All she could do was have sweet dreams of him, delusions that he hadn't left. That he would ease her distressed mind with a single touch. Watery, chestnut eyes closed momentarily, trying to dismiss the emotions she was suddenly hit with. But they wouldn't pass. Knowing such, Delia eyes flew open, the back of her hand smearing away a few tears as she regained her composure. Then, as if in a trance, the glistening of the exposed contents of the jewelry box caught Delia's attention.

A pair of earrings first captured her glance, recalling those were the earrings she wore to Prof. Oak's reunion party six years ago. That night, as if she was struck by lightning, Delia recognized she hadn't gotten over Jay. That a part of her still longed for his icy eyes to seduce her, for his fingers to lovingly caress her shoulders, for his affectionate words to pour from his mouth, for his firm lips to be pressed against her soft fleshy ones... Again, with all the strength the woman could muster, Delia attempted to no longer harbor on her deepest desire, and instead reached for a new bottle of sunscreen she had laid out earlier on her dresser. But as she cradled the plump bottle in her hold, her eyes could not steer away from the jewelry box.

She needed to read what was underneath it.


	13. With Every Heartbeat

**Author's Note: **This chapter took me forever to write. I think when I started writing this, I was wrapping up school and the burnout from writing papers close to weekly wasn't helping much. Yeah. It was that LONG ago when I started this. My writing juices went flat for like a week, so I had to step away... and with determination and short attempts at writing again I made them come back! Ha! So glad it's summer break, I cannot express that enough. :) And listening to _Cowboy Bebop's_ instrumental soundtrack has actually helped me get in the groove of writing too, as if the jazz like music relates well to my overall vision. ;p

This one here is a long chapter folks, with plenty doses of drama, humor, and tribulation. I must warn you to prepare yourselves! :O

Also I have chapters 14, 15, and 16 with my beta reader now. I think I have given her MORE than enough to work on, so I'll probably get back to wrapping up _Junk of the Heart_. I would still like to update and finish it sometime in August. So we'll see. I've got school again in September, so I'm trying to write as much as I can before then.

And again, if you have not voted on the poll and would like to, please do so! :) Thank you to those who did!

**DISCLAIMER: **_Pokémon_ belongs to Satoshi Tajiri. _Wuthering Heights_ belongs to the amazing Gothic writer Emily Bronte. Yes, another Bronte Sisters' reference. I swear I didn't do it on purpose... it just worked in so well! Oh, and my oc's and Jay's rambling of sympathetic nonsense belongs to me. ;p

* * *

**Sunlight's Return**

**Chapter 13**

_"With every Heartbeat, I still Think of You"_

Tranquil and quiet it was. Just like she remembered.

The small creek still flowed with clear crystal water. The shiny, beautifully coated gray rocks soaked greatly with every soft crash from the stream. Small wild flowers growing between long grass, soft shades of pink, violet, and blue brightening the stunning green undertones. Tall, flourishing trees swayed slowly as their brilliantly colored green leaves basked and captured the sunlight with each shimmer. The sunlight that only peaked through the cracks of branches and showcased parts of the glorious little hideaway. Her hideaway.

Their hideaway.

Sitting on the same rotting, moss-covered log was Delia, relaxing and silently taking in the natural wonders surrounding her. On occasion, she'd venture here in search of some kind of peace, and would spend a good deal of time simply admiring the scenery. Or contemplating her deepest and most obscure thoughts. Gradually, chestnut eyes gravitated to the envelope in her hand. She had not once looked at the contents during her entire walk over or when she sat down and made herself at home. There was no point in waiting, considering she had read it at least a hundred times. Its words, its hazy answers needed to be read repeatedly if she was to ever understand the hidden meaning behind the one letter she held dear to her heart.

_Delia,_

_I cannot describe in words how much I miss you. You must be thinking that this one letter has appeared to you out of sheer randomness. Well, it hasn't. I've been meaning to send you these words, craving endlessly to write to you, to bring comfort for both of us. I'm just so sorry for its delay. I cannot express how much you mean to me, and how my feelings for you have not changed. Really. I think about you every day, every second for that matter. I think about how we left on such- unsettled and undeclared terms and it pains me endlessly to imagine the grief and heartache I have given you. You didn't deserve any of it, and I know for a fact you deserve better than me. I don't expect you to forgive me, and I never will. But I feel that to bring you an ounce of closure, I must desperately tell you that you're still the love of my life and that I can't imagine being with anyone else. I have never forgotten about you. Not even training or badges as you may like to believe could stand in the way of what we had. Ever. And it never has and it never will. I am just so apologetic to have ever led you on to believe such._

_If only I could tell you why I left, then things would be much easier between us. Well, maybe not easier but... I'm not making much sense, am I? All I can say is there's something keeping us apart. And it's neither you nor me. It's something I need to take care of and I don't expect you to understand or accept it. Mostly because I must refrain from telling you. But I wish I could, Del. God, I wish I could tell you... Until then, however, I cannot make promises of coming home anytime soon. But one day, I will. I swear. We will see each other again. And when that day comes, I will most likely grovel endlessly at your feet. Just please...wait for me. Just a little bit longer._

_I love you, Delia. Always._

_Sincerely, Jayce_

The sides of the letter earned deeper, obvious wrinkles after it had been held for so many times. Then, Delia sighed. _Jayce..._

Just reading her name with the word "always" the very first time made Delia's heart swell, and it did so again and again each time she tested her strength and glanced over that letter. Heart-wrenched and relieved she felt all at once, yet the woman continuously craved for the full truth to wholly understand why her dedicated husband left. He had professed his undying affection for her which only made a heavy unbelievable haze rush to Delia's head. Letting all of Jay's words sink in brought about a sincere burst of bliss and buried endearment that was imploring to rise up once more and feel warmth all over again. And Delia allowed it, only for it to fade as hastily as it soared through her bones.

She had been told by others she deserved better, yet Delia didn't think so. There was no one better than Jay, at least not in her mind. No one better to arrange a study date with, no one better to take her to prom, no one better to make the ideal and charismatic husband she had... No one had such an intense yet gentle look in their eyes that hungered for approval and affection, that promised with one look to be a loyal and faithful companion for life. Jay was intoxicating to Delia; at first glimpse, she supposed he was the one, but when he kissed her unexpectedly in that woody area that she now sat in all alone... Delia knew he was the one. The feeling of his strong lips, his secure hold, the indescribable rush of emotions resting in his eyes... Jay was unlike anyone she had ever crossed paths with. The only person who ever made her feel so whole and safe, and utterly content with every chill of pure ecstasy.

So why? After counting each silent day from the last and only letter he wrote, why did she never hear from him again? Then the most daunting question- why did he have to leave? Why did he have to ruin their family unit, their once thought perfect life in Delia's eyes? And why did his explanation feel so- foreboding? Sure, it wasn't clear-cut, so black and white in emotional depth that it could have been a picturesque life literally out of a vintage film. It had _plenty_ of grey areas, vibrant colors too, with every troubling tribulation any family would be likely to face. But Delia wouldn't have had it any other way. As long as it never disappeared so savagely and unexpectedly from her soft gentle grasp. And what did Jay mean by "until then"? Was it some cryptic code she was supposed to comprehend and decipher? Endless times Delia had tried doing such, and more than anything, it gave her a rather throbbing, irritable headache. Never could she think of a rational answer for her husband's departure, and the thought of never getting closure pained her with a heavier broken heart. Was he in some kind of trouble? Something he had kept a secret while they were married, perhaps before?

Out of nowhere, a sudden voice broke Delia out of her trance.

"I thought I'd find you here."

Spinning around, she met the soft chocolate eyes of her son, who had a hand resting against the bark of a towering tree near the entrance of the hideaway. Delia's eyes widened in surprise, hardly knowing what to say. "Ash, w-what are you doing here?" she at last asked, blinking as her son sheepishly ghosted over.

"I was worried about you. You know, 'cause of today," replied Ash with a meek smile and a shrug. He had left Pikachu in Dani and Brock's care, solely venturing out to find his mother. "And I thought that- this was the only place that made sense to me...for you to go to." His eyes meandered across the forest dwelling, admiring the natural scenery just like his mother had.

With only the sound of shady branches swaying and Pidgey crooning within the forest, Delia studied Ash. It wasn't completely shocking to see he had discovered where she had scurried off to, and it wasn't shocking that her son showed deep concern and care, either. Between the considerate attempt at making fully cooked and fluffy waffles, to asking her repeatedly if she needed anything throughout the early afternoon, Delia was certain Ash was going out of his way for her shaky sanity regarding the anniversary. A small smile graced her lips at this thought, both blessed to have such an endearing son yet wishing he wouldn't worry so much about something that was out of his control. Something Delia didn't want to burden him with.

But she did appreciate the genuine company.

Still smiling, Delia gestured to the open spot beside her. "Would you like to sit with me?" she invited.

With a prompt nod, Ash moseyed to the free seat on the mossy log and settled himself comfortably. He leaned back on his palms, arms stretched behind him as the bill of his cap shielded him from the peeking of the sun's rays between leafy branches. "Can't believe how every time I come back to this place, it never changes. Everything has remained- the same," he reminisced.

Delia inhaled a slow breath, eyes wandering about just as steadily. "Yes. Yes it has."

After a pause and the acknowledgement they were both deep in contemplation, Ash broke out of his thought provoking trance. With a lingering gaze, he glanced at his mother's visible side, seeing a slightly crinkled note laying in her grasp. Then, a curious brow rose. "Whatcha got there?"

The observation of the letter appeared to snap Delia back into focus. Chestnut eyes blinked at her curious son's gaze, fingers soon fiddling with the folded paper. "Oh the um- the letter you gave me," she replied meekly, raising it just slightly for him to see. "I was never able to tell you how much I appreciated it, Ash."

They were words Ash always wondered if he'd ever hear. And now finally having those words spoken from his mother's mouth and into his ears, Ash was grateful, relieved, and humbled to hear such appreciation. To hear it had helped. He had hoped the letter would bring some form of comfort to Delia, knowing she was already taking on a great deal between his father's initial disappearance and his youthful determination to begin his own journey. The letter was, at the time, an unforeseen answer, quite possibly the late granting of a long awaited wish. Either way, Ash was indescribably delighted that it had come.

A soft smile graced Ash's lips. "Don't thank me. Thank Dad."

Peaceful silence consumed the air as Delia exchanged her own smile back to her son. From there, they paused once more to examine the lavish forest, hardly knowing what to say. It felt wonderful yet awkward to discuss the letters out in the open, for it had never been conversed even when Delia had ample opportunity to confront Ash about it. It just...felt better left unsaid. In their hearts, they assumed that if anything, they had another minimal amount of closure that each of them could personally cherish.

Still...something in the back of their minds urged them to share- eventually.

Chiseling at the ice again, Ash cocked an eye back at Delia. "Just so you know, Mom," he started slowly, "I never read what he wrote to you."

An auburn brow rose with a short laugh. "Why do I find that hard to believe?"

"I didn't, Mom, I swear!" he chuckled in return with slight defense. "It was addressed to you and- you deserved to be the first and only person to read it. I just saw your name and well... Ya see, I got it the day of my birthday when I went to go check the mail for you. When I opened the envelope I saw I got a letter too and behind mine was yours."

Sitting up straight due to the sudden piece of news, Delia's eyes grew wide and she turned to him. "Wait, your father gave you one,_ too_?" she said in astonishment, tied back auburn locks swaying to the side. This was certainly news to her! However, Delia wondered herself if Jay had sent anything to Ash that fateful day she received her own bit of written communication.

Ash blinked. "Uh, yeah."

Unsure of how to assess the situation, he scrutinized his mom with an attentive eye, praying she wasn't displeased with the development. If anything, she appeared rather aghast, clueless herself as to how to respond. In turn, Ash felt guilty for withholding vital information, but the sentimental child inside him wanted to keep the little piece of his dad to himself.

Delia's dramatic expression lessened, though a trembling open mouth remained. "Honey, wh-why didn't you tell me?" she asked in sheer befuddlement.

A look of nervousness crossed Ash's face. "I don't- I don't know," he stuttered, eyes gleaming down at the vibrant grass. "I mean, I guess I wanted to keep it to myself because it was mine. There was nothing bad in it Mom, honestly. Just that he missed us and that his leaving wasn't about us- it seemed as if he- couldn't say a whole lot. Like he was holding back for some reason," Ash rationalized, the obvious undertone of confusion towards the situation resonating in his voice.

"You gotta believe me though, Mom. I wanted to give you your letter so badly, but since we were having my birthday party and that everyone was there... I decided to give it to you the next day. When I left on my journey. Did it um- help? Not just about Dad, but about me- with me leaving for my journey and everything?"

Delia finally caught a full glimpse of his cautious chocolate eyes, his gaze softly peering at her as he anticipated a response. The conversation felt very surreal to the woman, as if never thinking she'd have a chance to be a part of this intimate discussion. As if it would never take place. But now it had, and Delia, while rattled, was thankful to hear Ash explain and be so open without much hesitation. Keeping secrets between them, feelings that needed to be vocalized to fully heal and understand- Delia would have preferred that over the frustrating silence she and Ash endured years ago. She didn't want to feel afraid, and she certainly didn't want Ash to, either.

"It did," Delia soon replied with a warm smile, a soft hand delicately lying over his knee. She had told him she appreciated it, but she could not find the words to say how much it had truly...helped. "It helped very much. More than I can express."

Now assurance resting in his mind, Ash nodded, and wider yet still light grins were formed. A slight breeze had journeyed into the area; full green branches gently creaked, their sound mingling with the soothing rush of the trickling stream close by. By the sound, the pairs' eyes traveled back up to the high greenery above, the faint glimmer of light breaking through to warm their faces. Ash admired the natural beauty surrounding him, feeling as if that alone was aiding in the calming of tension and undisturbed exchange.

The nature, however, could not fully steer the trainer's mind away from a thought he had been considering to ask. "So," Ash began again, his focus going back to his mom, "if you don't mind me asking...what did it say?"

Delia's brows rose, jerking away from the shifting branches above. "Th-the letter?"

He nodded. "Yeah. I mean, I always wondered about it, but it just felt weird to ask you 'til now..."

His gaze ventured off to the side, as if he was reconsidering his words. Delia was lost for words with Ash's respect of privacy at a young age, and now thought to herself he might as well see what his father wrote to her. There was nothing to conceal in the letter, especially after Ash willingly admitted the contents of his. The contents that were strikingly similar to hers... The sudden absence of her husband was beginning to leave marks of greater suspicion, and not based off the original motive of badges and glory. No. There was something deeper, something much more impenetrable for Delia to comprehend all on her own...

Pausing briefly, Delia soon looked to her son. "Well- why don't you read it for yourself?" she suggested, offering the folded piece of paper to the teenager.

"Really?" he said in stupefaction. He was predicting a no or a brief description at best. Never did Ash think she'd openly allow him to scan such private contents.

Yet Delia nodded in approval. "Go ahead."

Slight indecision remained in Ash's fingertips until his inquisitive wonders consumed him to fully unfold the letter. Anxiously, Delia watched him from the side, following his eyes darting across one line of text to the next. Hands fidgeted in her lap, endlessly pondering, _hoping_, that Ash would come to the same conclusion she originally presumed. In due time Ash finished the last line, his silent self repeatedly gawking at the affectionate signature left by his father. There weren't more clues to his father's vanishing as Ash would have prayed for there to be, but one thing was for certain.

One thing that brought him immense comfort and sheer amazement.

Ash froze and looked up at Delia. Chocolate eyes wide. "Mom, Dad _loves_ you."

A delicate, shaky smile with watery eyes formed. She sniffled. "I know."

* * *

Evening hours were in the midst of setting in, and a bar in the middle of Saffron City was swarming with customers.

On two barstools in a half-filled counter sat Drake and Jay, both washing away their woes from the day with intoxicating drinks. Jay had ordered his brother some kind of fizzy foamy green drink, which Drake didn't know what to make of, till he took a sip and realized it was an apple-infused beer. He didn't like overdone alcoholic beverages and he knew Jay didn't either, but enjoyed teasing him by filling him up with one. Other than that, however, Jay's humor was harshly dry and a smile had barely spread upon his lips other than an innocent chuckle after seeing Drake react from the evident sourness. During most of their late night dining, the loud chatter of the bar filtered through their ears, hardly any words being exchanged. Rather, subtle words of concern poured from Drake's mouth as he observed his brother demand for a third full dose of a porter beer, with his first shot of tequila. Watching with attentive anxiety, the islander wondered how many of those shots and beers Jay was willing to chug down before tipsy movements and slurred words of nonsense set in. There was one thing for certain, however, between every satisfying slurp.

Drake didn't need to question _why_ Jay was drinking.

Slowly, Jay's fingers traced the dampened and cold beer bottle, eyes fixated on the object as his voice finally resounded softly. "You know I- I still remember how our last anniversary together went."

Drake perked up in surprise, though he knew what he was referring to. "You do?"

"Oh yeah," he chuckled dryly, running a hand through his unruly midnight locks. "It was one of the best nights of my life. I took her to this French restaurant. I can't remember the name now or maybe I've just tried to forget it, but… It still resonates with me as- one of the last pure memories of my life...with her. God, I wonder what she's doing right now? I guess I could have sent her a card, but what good would that have done? Happy Anniversary!- yeah right..."

It seemed, as Drake continued to study his brother's face carefully, his facial features morphed into a pathetic contortion. A pensive stare that was slightly obscure from the beer changed rapidly with a quivering mouth and the start of wet eyes and a blubbering cough. Jay's head dipped down, his attempt at shielding his mournful expression from those around him, though his abrupt breakdown of weeping wasn't aiding in the cloaking of such.

"Delia," he gasped faintly, breathing in her name as if the sweet sound on his tongue was impossible to fully relish. "Cabbage-Patch- Oh, God!"

Steadily, the broken man's face fell directly into his hands, his upper body arching between every soft sniffle and whimper. A hand awkwardly reached out; Drake lightly patted Jay's back as his gaze steered elsewhere. Boy, he was a mess. In a bigger, feebler state than the islander had initially imagined. He was under the impression that today wasn't going to be pleasant for his brother to endure, yet he didn't think he'd see him release noticeable tears. There was only one other occasion Drake recalled Jay crying: when he had disclosed all those horrifying details of his ongoing turmoil with Team Rocket, which, in Drake's eyes, was beyond understandable. But that was a onetime witnessing of someone as strong, stoic, and private as Jayce Ketchum mewl with quiet restraint. But apparently Drake was, again, one of the very first to get a front row seat to his brother's mental spiral downward.

In time Drake drew his hand away, seeing his genuine pats did nothing to ease the sobs. So instead, he offered his napkin to help wipe away profuse tears, which Jay hurriedly refused. "No, no, I'm fine," he insisted between a couple of sniffles. "Really, I'm fine- Oh, shit," he groaned, his sorrowful voice wiped away by his usual strong tone.

Drake lurched forward in worry. "What? What's wrong?"

"It's our song that we danced to at prom," he announced, bitterness, annoyance, and sadness all mingling together. "Of all the times it had to play, today just _had_ to be the day! I swear the world hates me..."

In an effort to listen, Drake's ears keened in on the stereo speakers above the bar and analyzed the lyrics of his brother and sister-in-law's supposed "song." It was a rather strange choice to be playing at a high school prom, considering the lyrics "we made magic that night" would, in most cases, be deemed as highly inappropriate, provocative, and suggestive. Plus, Drake never would have pinpointed this song to be an exact representation of Delia and Jay's relationship... Nevertheless, somehow one of _Heart's _famous hits snuck its way into the gymnasium and onto the now outdated stereo set. And snuck straight into the souls of two high school sweethearts destined for a long, prosperous life together. At least that was the dream...

"Um, excuse me?" Drake politely called to the preoccupied bartender, trying to drain out Jay's pathetic sobs and mumbles. Thankfully, the bartender promptly responded to the islander's cordial beckoning and strolled over casually to the counter. "Do you think you could possibly change the station? My brother's um- going through a rough time right now," Drake awkwardly said, eyes lingering to the depressed man beside him for identification.

"This was our song at prom!" Jay unexpectedly explained to the bartender with unpolished composure, catching both his brother and the man behind the counter by surprise. "And personally, I wouldn't have picked this one. It's so cliché and that repetitive tune and it doesn't even make sense with us. T-that she'd sleep with _me_ but is _in love_ with another man!"

Another earful of blubbering seeped from the broken man's lips, two sets of eyes watching him closely with stiff mouths and uncomfortable stares.

Within time of Jay's cries quieting, a flash of something empathetic appeared across the bartender's face. "I'll- see what I can do," he at last said, glancing to Drake before walking away.

Thankful for the bartender's cooperation, Drake could no longer stomach watching his usually sturdy brother fall to pieces over a measly song he danced to at prom. Successfully, Jay had kept up an impeccable poker face the majority of the day till those alcoholic beverages hit the back of his throat. It made Drake only wonder if his brother tortured himself on_ every_ anniversary. Beating himself up for all that he had unintentionally done.

Watching his brother gulp down another heavy swig, Drake cautiously eased in. "Jay, why don't you get your mind on something else?" he suggested, his hand tempted to pull the drink from out of his grasp.

Instead of complying, the islander earned an offended look. "How can you be so insensitive?" Jay breathed incredulously. "Do you understand what it's like to go day after day, after day, _after day_ and realize you have permanently damaged the only relationship worth living for? I cannot live without my life! I cannot live without my soul!"

Drake arched a peculiar brow. "Um, maybe not to that serious of a degree where I need to quote _Wuthering Heights. _But yes, I know how difficult it is to no longer be with someone you care about." Those days of reading complex, old world literature which Emily forced him to endure... Drake didn't mind it, but he certainly wasn't as consumed by the complex dramas, language, and dark yet evident undertones of society as Jay was. As if he was asking to be haunted by his love in order to sense her presence...

"You and Deedra broke up?" croaked Jay, something finally distracting him from his close-to-empty beer.

The islander flinched. "Her name's_ Diana_."

Drunk or not, Jay could never keep the names of his little brother's ex-girlfriends straight. Though Drake supposed that one was his fault... Deedra was his first girlfriend in which they ended their relationship on- awkward circumstances that Drake preferred to refrain from delving into. Diana was the _sixth_. And the reason they had broken up was because he discovered her cheating with a referee who worked at the very stadium Drake _battled_ in weekly. Regardless if Jay realized the truth or not, he wasn't the only one carrying a heavy load of disappointment, outrage, sadness, regret, and a thousand other feelings. Even if both situations couldn't be analyzed for identical comparison, they were still very much unpleasant. And apparently, to make matters worse, the bartender had hurriedly changed the station, which in turn was useless, for Jay was already onto another subject. One in which Drake didn't wish to heavily embellish on.

As if utterly flabbergasted by the latest development, Jay gave his brother an astounded expression. "But you guys were so close. Man that sucks! When did it happen?" If anything, that overdone shock and concern was the alcohol talking, seeing Jay was hardly ever moved by Drake's breakups and makeups.

"Around six months ago," replied Drake. Now thinking about it, he couldn't believe time had flown by so quickly.

"Six months?" echoed Jay. "Damn, you're still trying to heal."

"Well, I think I've gotten over most of it. I've actually met someone-"

"You know what? Screw romance!" the man suddenly blurted, his intoxicated mind slipping with every dramatic word. "This is what happens when you're naturally a loyal fool! You are to live in your own miseries and count each day that you are forever alone. Loneliness is the cruelest of the cruel."

A roll of the eyes proceeded. "Uh-huh," dismissed Drake. In his mind, the islander was contemplating the idea of snatching that half empty bottle from Jay's hand. And it seemed by the quoting of a Gothic romance novel and his own ramblings on life, Drake felt now was a better time than ever. Especially after Jay took another deep, inhaling swig.

A hand soon reached out. "Why don't we quit on those for the night-"

"No, I want another," jerked Jay, unwilling to cooperate. "It helps the pain." He kept the beer close to him, as if a child withholding a new toy from his playmate. In the midst of his reluctant state, however, Jay did not suspect for the bartender to stroll over and to clean off the counter of untouched napkins and such. With another fast pull, Jay swiped his napkin topped with nuts, the bartender's fingers just barely caressing the thin paper. "Hey, don't touch my nuts," he demanded.

The bartender threw his hands up, surprised by the harsh reaction. "Sorry man, I just thought you were finished."

"_No,_" Jay scoffed with unexpected irritability, his index finger firmly pointing to the near gone nuts on his napkin. "These are _my_ nuts on_ my_ napkin. If I want them removed I will ask. Got it? You don't see me touching _your_ nuts-"

"Hey, I don't ride that way," the man declared with a sarcastic chuckle.

A disgusted expression followed. "Neither do I. And I've got a kid to prove it!"

"Whatever, man," the bartender snorted.

It was evident he was bristled by Jay's less than composed state, marching away with a sneer and shake of his head. And Jay had his fill, too.

Harsh, icy blue eyes watched the figure make his grand exit. Then, a scoff followed. "Pervert..." the master mumbled sourly, a short gulp of his drink following.

Terror rushing to his head, Drake sat with antsy nerves. Picking a fight with the equally as toned and tall bartender didn't sound like a choice he'd wish to put on his agenda for the day, nor did he find it any more wise for his hardly lucid brother to do so. "Please, can you not, and I mean _not_, get us kicked out by mouthing off to the bartender?" pleaded Drake between clenched teeth in a whisper.

"God, you're such a friggin' nagger!" exclaimed Jay, his head titled back with a slurred groan. "You worry _way_ too much."

"And you don't worry _enough_. At least when you're drunk."

At that very instant, the release of thunderous, sardonic laughter flowed from Jay's mouth, his head dipped low as his body slightly heaved from the chortling. In return, by the out of the blue hysteric laugh, Drake threw a confused brow and tip of the head, annoyance and befuddlement raging in his voice. Was his reply that riotously comical for Jay to belt such strong chortles?

"What?" said Drake. "What is so hilarious?"

Jay's wild grin shrunk, his head rising back up as his voice settled. "Now that I think about it, I should have given that bastard a harder time. Like a _real_ hard time."

Drake's nose crinkled. "_The_ _bartender_?" The guy might have accidentally almost stolen Jay's precious assortment of various nuts, but Drake didn't think that action validated his brother to give the poor man such a beating of words!

Shaking his head, the master groaned. "No, you idiot, the asshole who tried to make a move on my wife."

Silence fell.

_Wait...what? _"Uh, you never told me about that," Drake at last spoke, extremely perplexed.

Recollections of Jay mentioning men had attempted to carelessly flirt with Delia in the grocery store or at the inn were the only notions of courting to Drake's knowledge. But never did he know a man who had pursued Delia in such a determined manner in which Jay felt highly threatened by. All Drake could wonder about was when this incident occurred, and who was this man? And why hadn't he been informed about this happening? Was it just the beer talking, or had Jay hidden this truth from his brother?

Staring blankly at his surprised brother, Jay huffed. "I didn't?" he blinked. "... Huh? Well, I might as well fill you in then-"

"No Jay, really," Drake cut in fervently. "It's _not_ necessary. Besides, you're hardly coherent-"

"That bastard Mark thought he could get away with manhandling _my_ woman. _My _Delia," he emphasized passionately, his index finger stabbing his firm chest. "And you know what I did?"

At that moment, Drake could hypothesis a hundred different ways Jay would make the rumored man who tried to make a pass at Delia pay for his actions. His experience with Team Rocket alone would supply plenty of methods to bring about a physical fight and escape unscathed. To say, at the very least, it could possibly be anything.

Drake's face grew ashen. "I'm afraid to guess. And who in the world is Mark?-"

"I called him out on it and man, did I scare the shit out of him," Jay kept on rambling, ignoring his brother's questioning. "He was out of Pallet faster than I expected! I just hope he regretted what he did. 'Cause he _really_ pissed me off by messing with _my_ wife and _my_ kid-"

"What did you do?"

"A harmless little mind game," the master replied, shrugging as if it was no big deal. "He was_ so_ asking for it. I mean, c'mon Drake, what decent guy hits on a married woman? Especially one with a kid?"

There was no way to debate that one. By his moral standards, the islander didn't find an ounce of justification for a man to make enticing notions to a woman with a child, especially a _married_ woman. Though it was up for debate whether the married woman provoked such or even felt as if the marriage was completely obsolete...

Drake adjusted his throat. "Well yes, it's a little concerning-"

"And he thought he could get away with it! I've got eyes looking everywhere!" exaggerated Jay, his finger pointing in every direction. "He was_ very_ fortunate I wasn't there, 'cause if I was, I would have kicked him where the sun don't shine and_ then_ some! That sneaky, repulsive, conniving, _despicable_ son of a bitch-"

"How did you find out about this- Mark guy?" interjected Drake again. "And when did this all happen?" He didn't need to hear another slew of insults to understand Jay's harboring dislike for the man. Though now that the scandalous confession had been spilled, Drake did feel he had the right to receive a clear picture on the matter, and maybe if Jay was focused enough to answer who this Mark fellow was and how he came about.

Jay flashed him a dazed look, regaining his woozy focus. "Wha?" Then, he snapped back with a wide grin. "Oh, you won't guess who my source was!" he exclaimed, slamming an excited hand on the bar counter. "It was actually Ash! About five or six years ago... give or take. Can you believe that? I called the house, don't know what I was thinkin', but I just had to hear her voice or his voice, and then he answers and-"

A slightly agape mouth remained frozen in midair, eyes starting to shift away from an anticipating Drake. Something changed in that hysterical stare, something that softened immensely. At first, Drake was simply stolen by his brother's proclaimed secret that he had called his old residence, but now he was becoming filled with concern and captivation over Jay's loss of words.

"...And what?" Drake eventually spoke.

His expression froze, eyes glazed over with a cloudy blue tint. Then, he swallowed.

"He told me. Everything. And- I said I was sorry..." Another swallow hit the back of Jay's throat as if it was stuck. He breathed in deeply, shaky-like. "Then I said nothing," he finished somberly.

Flabbergasted, Drake continued to watch his brother while a swelling of emotions burned inside his chest. He actually made _contact _with _Ash_? The one thing Drake believed Jay had forbidden himself to do, much less swear he'd never attempt till he was somehow away from the lingering clutches of Giovanni? Jay calling the house was evidently a minor breakdown on his part, a longing for home, comfort, and love that could not be quieted any further. He had slipped on his own promise to never make contact with his estranged family, and even in doing so Jay was still unable to seek the minuscule amount of solace he wanted to acquire. Whatever was exchanged between the distant father and son on the term "everything," and how Ash recognized it was his dad on the other line...something still ever so raw and fleshy had not fully healed, and Jay was withstanding yet suffering the repercussions of it.

In an effort to bring a form of brotherly condolences, Drake's mouth opened but only for a split second. Murky blue eyes virtually drowning in the start of damning tears, reversed to a harsh, icy glare while a final gulp of a beer glided down Jay's throat. As if he was trying to forget.

"Hit me, barkeep!" he shouted with a satisfying sound, slamming the empty bottle back down on the counter.

Appearing peeved from the last discussion, the bartender (who had just finished serving another customer) waltzed over anyway, leaning his elbow on the wooden top with a huff through his nostrils. "That's your third one, pal," he commented, giving Jay a knowledgeable implication to _stop_ drinking.

"What are you, my mother?" snapped Jay instead. "Perhaps my pastor who is going to send me to a delinquent detention hall for my 'excessive drinking'?"

"No."

"No, you're _not_. I'm not driving, this guy with the muscles is," he pointed to his brother with his thumb and a wobbly elbow. "So chill out."

Huffing, the bartender lifted his resting elbow off the counter and before fetching Jay yet _another_ beer, glanced to Drake with an irked expression. "What's his damage?"

"He and his wife are separated," sighed Drake.

"Yeah?" he snorted, glancing to Jay with a scoff. "I don't blame her."

And with that, the server attended to his duties and by his snide remark received a disgusted look from Jay. "God, I hate that guy. He doesn't get it!" the master moaned, scoffing in vexation and annoyance. "He doesn't get what I'm going through at all! Not even if he tried! If he were in my shoes, he would have been dead a _long_ time ago. By a frontal lobotomy or by jumping off of a cliff with treacherous waters below!"

Unsure of what to say any more, Drake kept his thoughts to himself and his eyes lingered elsewhere. If for whatever bizarre reason he wanted any secrets out of his brother, the islander knew getting him wasted was the ultimate answer. Jay bottled everything up so well Drake assumed that, tragically, guzzling on alcoholic beverages was the only way for him to let his guard down. Though he wasn't articulate enough to realize what he was yammering on about. And a pair sitting a few seats away from the brothers occasionally shot a peculiar look over their shoulders, apparently getting not only a good dinner but the addition of a theatrical performance of a broken man to boot...

An arch of an inquisitive brow rose at the sight of the dubious couples' gaze, but was quickly jerked away by the sound of Jay's voice once more. "So," he started bluntly, taking hold of the fourth bottle the bartender cracked open for him, "how serious was it with Princess Diana? Did ya ever get to third base?"

Eyes glanced to the side, purposely shying away. As of right then, jumping off a steep cliff and facing a watery fate sounded appealing to Drake.

* * *

She was utterly delighted Ash indulged himself in the chicken wings, and even more satisfied that the long day was drawing to a close.

After bidding Dani goodnight, Brock, with such eagerness, escorted her back to Leah and Ernest's house, and as for Delia and Ash, they called it a night. They picked up the kitchen together with soft smiles and continual chats regarding the meal's magnificent quality and soon attended to their own needs. With hot streams of water beating down on her bare back, Delia took pleasure in the relaxation a shower brought, regardless if it was hot outside or not. She felt her muscles unknot, only to have them tense up again when her damp, delicate feet touched the tiling of the bathroom floor. Suppressing such anxiety, she dried her hair with a white bath towel and soon slipped into her summer nightgown. Between Ash's heartfelt gestures and their discussion of the letters...Delia felt a sense of release from the day's grief, or at least she convinced herself she had.

Quietly she retired to her bedroom for the evening, knowing upon Brock's return he'd lock the door before venturing to bed himself. Settling herself on the bed, the woman attended to rubbing a scent of wild honeysuckle lotion on her legs, arms, and feet, enjoying the pleasant fragrance as it filtered up her nostrils. She felt soothed by the scent to relax her fiery nerves briefly, till a soft but definite knock on the door stole her attention.

"Come in," she beckoned, closing the bottle cap shut and her legs tucking in to her side.

To no surprise, Ash popped his head full of ruffled midnight tresses from behind the door, smiling as he closed it. "Hey, Mom," he said, slowly walking over and sitting on top of the bed. "Just uh- wanted to let you know that Brock got back okay. He's making popcorn for us right now. Do you want some?"

He was already decked out in his pajamas, prepared for a night of video games with Brock, casual chatting, _and_ filling Brock in that he could help Ash with as many chores as he liked, due to the fact that Mr. Mime had been relocated to Delia's parents' house to help around. Or, as Ash thought, for Brock to step in on the chores_ he_ felt less compelled to accomplish... But before any of the fun could commence, Ash had to ease his mild worries and check in on his mom.

"Thank you for letting me know he's back," smiled Delia, setting the bottle of lotion on her nightstand. "And no on the popcorn; I'm fine but thank you for asking, sweetie. Is the front door and patio locked by any chance?" she followed up.

Ash nodded. "Yep. Everything's secured for the night." Another confirming smile to Delia was made, yet Ash couldn't take his leave immediately. He had gone over the usual parameters before turning in for the night and while his feet were telling him to exit, his restless mind was prodding at him to unleash the last thought in his head. The main reason he entered in the first place.

"So," Ash lingered shyly, eyes dashing off to the side. Then, he looked back at his mother. "Did you have an okay anniversary?" he at last asked.

Delia's face lit up. "It was the best one I've had in a long while," she assured warmly. "Thank you for everything, honey."

From there, Delia wrapped her arms around him in a tight, motherly embrace, a hand lightly rubbing up and down his back before separating. Ash was exceedingly pleased to see his mom in a better state of mind, knowing the little difference he committed himself to had worked some magic in Delia's healing heart and soul. He had promised not to disappoint her again days ago after the infamous Gary incident, and Ash wanted to keep his promise to his mom. Especially if it could make her day, a once _special_ day like this, brighter. Less cloudy with the painful, haunting reminder fully intact...

Steadily, Ash rose from the bed and his feet began their travel towards the door. But then, as his hand reached for the doorknob, he twirled. "Now, you sure you're okay?" he double-checked before retiring for the night.

A reassuring giggle slipped from Delia's mouth with a soft shake of her head. "Ash, I'm fine. _Really_, I am. Now please, just- enjoy your time with Brock and get some rest," she insisted, gesturing towards the door. "I don't mind you boys staying up but not for too long, all right?"

Appearing confident in Delia's adamant but gentle assertion, Ash finally allowed his hand to grasp the doorknob. Internally, Delia released a sigh of relief, witnessing the relaxation in his eyes. Nothing could express how truly thankful she was to have such a caring and devoted son, doing such simple things to bring a smile to her face. It was indescribably wonderful to have Ash home again, and to see how much he had grown from just a boy to a young man. And Delia couldn't give herself all the credit. Ash was just...naturally that way.

"'Kay. 'Night, Mom," he said.

"Goodnight, Ash. I love you. And tell Brock I said goodnight," she added.

"I will," he replied, already halfway out the door. "Love ya too, Ma."

And so with a firm click, the door was sealed shut.

Silence consumed the bedroom as Delia sat on the edge of her bed. She supposed she could pick up where she left off with her romance novel; she was past the halfway mark. At that moment, however, she was uninterested. A sweeping romance she was clearly unable to obtain didn't sound like a read that could lift up her spirits, and keep them there. Plus, as relieving as it was to saunter to her and Jay's former hideaway and be showered with all of Ash's kind efforts, Delia still felt unsettled. As if it could never be fully resolved. To move on and accept the past skirmish with her husband so easily. A part of her would always have difficulty letting go of the Jay she loved, and without question Delia also knew why. She was tired of being alone, wondering why he had to leave, exhaustion consuming her as she had for nearly ten years stayed strong for the sake of two vulnerable and deeply hurt people...

Auburn eyelashes fluttered upward, no longer fixed on folding back the summer covers of her bed, but to the closet on the opposite side of where she slept. Had it been that long since it had been opened? The last time the closet saw daylight was when Delia shoved Jay's last remaining washed clothes in there, the clothes she cleaned the very night he decided to flee into the darkness and rain. To leave her in such ineffable loneliness with a profusely bleeding heart...

Twisted every way, unable to alleviate her confused mind and wounded heart, she drew away from her bed and to the other side of the room. Almost in an unbreakable stupor, fingers met the handle and the soft creak of the closet door squeaked in a ghostly sound. It was as if after so many years of closure from the world the closet was finally about to be reopened. A sharp pound raced through Delia's heart as she held tightly to the handle, watching light slowly hit the inside of the small opening. As the door retracted as far as it could go, signs of cobwebs were evident to the woman's eyes. All remained as she last remembered. Jay's shirts, ties, and jackets for work still hung ironed with hardly any wrinkles. Those neatly pressed shirts would never be worn and follow the tedious routine of entering the building of _Element Endurance_. No, they were traded in for a treacherous journey... Then there was his priceless leather jacket, the one she adored seeing him in, completing his rough, stoic look and hiding the thoughtful intellectual she could always reach out to and hold. His few shoes were also lined up at the bottom, a small organizer containing jeans and t-shirts lay too, and a stack of old, worn books were pushed off to the side. Books about Pokémon- about _training_. Curiousness boiled inside Delia, fingers cautiously reaching inside for some reason. Soon, they traced the shirts dangling from the hangers, feeling the oh-so-familiar fabric with thoughtful touches. She swore for a second that behind the scent of dust and wood, she could still smell the faint aroma of morning haze- like him.

A long glance was made over her delicate shoulder, staring longingly at the untouched pillow beside hers. Delia's head bowed down towards the floor, trembling hands rising to her face.

She wept.

* * *

Somewhere throughout Jay's garbled, half-sense tales, Drake found himself drinking in order to wash away the hysteria surrounding him.

He felt a tad light-headed, but not wasted enough to compare his coherency to his cackling brother. They had been there for at least another forty minutes, Jay attracting a decent crowd of rowdy men who indulged themselves in his wild and half-baked stories regarding training and his damaged marriage. Jay had let up significantly on the drinks thanks to both Drake's persistent concern and the bartender simply refusing to serve him anymore. But that didn't stop the master from rambling on from one topic to another. The bar was congested on one side, all eyes on Jay as he wrapped up one tale and went to another. Another eye roll was created by Drake each instance a new story emerged, his deep breathing the obvious notation of his vexation of the situation. He couldn't believe the group Jay had stirred up...or maybe he could. Either way, it was grinding heavily on his nerves. Especially the _latest _subject pouring from Jay's mouth.

"You know, I didn't think being sex-deprived would be as bad as it sounds, but it is!" Jay admitted with shock, to no surprise earning very attentive ears. "It's like all the feeling in your-"

_Including_ Drake.

"Okay! There's no need to go any further," the islander interrupted swiftly, rising up from his seat and stepping in between Jay and the gathered men. "I think we get the picture."

"No, no," Jay shushed him with a lazy wave of his hand. "Let me finish. It's like uh- where was I?" he asked, looking back to his swarm of unruly men.

"You said the feeling," one of the men egged excitedly.

Drake didn't like where this was going, and the reddening of his face was probably a dead giveaway of that. Crinkling his nose, he looked to the herd of men in disgust. Everything was becoming worse by the minute. First, Jay had ticked off the bartender and now he was telling personal stories and perspectives to a group of strangers? Oh, if Jay was only sober, for Drake knew he wouldn't be uttering a single word about _this_.

The reminder by the eager listener provoked Jay's thoughts back on track. "Oh, right," he said, with a sad attempt at snapping his fingers. "It's like the feeling- you know, ecstasy, is completely numb inside of you. That you'll never be able to obtain that internal, primal struggle for affection ever again. "

At that point, before Jay could continue, the men gave him blank stares, unable to comprehend exactly what he was saying. Without the use of explicit words, it seemed they were incapable of analyzing Jay's...more so poetic wording. If one could even call it that.

"What the hell did he just say?" a different man piped up, looking about to the group for an answer.

Drake's brows lowered and he shook his head. "Even when you're drunk, you still can't entirely fit the male stereotype," he mumbled, now rubbing his temple in exhaustion.

"Wha?" Jay moaned, his unsteady gaze looking to his brother.

"Oh, never mind," Drake sighed, placing a hand on his shoulder. "Let's just get out of here."

In a rush after shooing the dense herd of piggish men away, Drake paid the hefty bill of plentiful drinks and minimal dinner, and with pushy arms scooted Jay out of the establishment. It seemed Jay's company was going to be missed by the near equally drunk men, but after the last comment Jay made and the eyeing of a couple of women glancing _flirtatiously_ their way, Drake found it imperative for them to leave while they still had a chance. As they walked out into the darkening sidewalk, Drake steadied Jay's steps and motioned them to head to the car. With a dizzy gaze Jay looked to the familiar vehicle waiting for them to climb into, but the glimpse of something in the corner of his eye attracted his attention instead.

Tearing away from Drake's clench, he stumbled down the sidewalk rather than across the street, heading for what appeared to be a small strip mall of various business.

"Where are you going?" Drake asked, following after him. "Jay!"

The master, of course, ignored his brother's calling and kept up his rigid steps to the entrance of a tattoo and piercing shop. Instantly, Drake's stomach churned with extreme agitation and moved at a faster rate. Only a few feet behind him, Jay already meandered into the establishment, finding it quiet with only a radio playing overhead. It was rather clean with brand new furniture and overall décor. One could easily assume it was a new building, and most likely with a new business owner to boot.

Racing in, Drake slammed the front door open, eyebrows narrowed as he approached Jay's side. "What are you doing?" he demanded, desperately trying to get Jay to look at him. "We have to head back to the car-"

"Just hold on a minute!" growled Jay in return. Flashing his eyes forward, the master spotted a man who was a little younger than Drake at the front counter. His left arm was covered in a sleeve of various tattoos and had a good three piercings on his ear too. It appeared by the grabbing of keys and locking up of the cash register, the man was about to close up for the night.

"Hey," Jay barked anyway, regardless of such, "do you have time to give two desperate guys two_ very_ meaningful tattoos that will make a profound difference in their lives?"

Lifting his head up with the pair of keys still resting in his grip, the young man paused with a clueless expression "Uh...sure?" he blinked.

A head rush of horror exhilarated Drake, watching Jay's lips curve up into an excitable smile. "Jay, no," Drake hastily stepped in front of him, waving his hands. "No, no, no, we are _not_ doing this."

Jay just scoffed. "You may not want to, but_ I_ am."

"_No, you're not_," he repeated with more assertion. "We need to head back to the Pokémon Center and check on Misty. And besides, you don't even like tattoos. You said they're tacky and ugly a-and you _criticized_ Annie when she wanted to get a singing Jigglypuff tattooed on her-"

But it was useless. Jay stormed past his interfering brother and helped himself to a seat opposite the counter. Once he sat down, the young man working handed him a book of tattoo designs to choose from, and Jay flipped through each page with a fixated stare.

"Hehe, look, Drake!" he soon called, glancing over his shoulder briefly for his brother to come forward. In a huff, Drake stomped over and gave him another cross look, but it was dismissed quickly by the drawing that induced Jay into a giggling fit. "They have a design of a baby Dratini. _With bubbles_," he pointed out, his amusement growing as he watched Drake's facial expression. "You'd totally want that on your ankle or something!"

Shaking his head, a mild groan was released. "No, I don't."

Yes, Dratini was of course one of his favorite Pokémon, and _maybe _at one time he debated about getting a tattoo...but now of all occasions was clearly not the time! And he didn't find this random notion to step into a tattoo parlor comical! Not when Misty was waiting, not when Jay was slobbering drunk, and not when _he _wanted to head back to the center before Team Rocket showed their unwanted faces.

At a side glance, Drake saw the young man was already washing his hands in a nearby sink with germicidal soap, prompting the islander to meddle once more. If he couldn't get through to his blitzed brother, he had a shot at convincing the worker to stop before the madness ensued.

"Listen," he started, leaning over the counter, "I can't let you give my brother a tattoo. He's a little...impaired right now. _Believe me_, if he was sober he'd be asking me a hundred questions why we stepped in here in the first place."

The guy formed a nervous smile as he slipped on a pair of clean gloves. "Dude, if he wants one, he wants one. I gotta make a livin' too." That and he didn't want to tussle with a drunken man nor was he going to pass up the chance at making another buck before closing for the evening.

A baffled expression was created by Drake, watching the young man just go about gathering and sanitizing required supplies. He was even more stumped when the worker handed Drake a small stack of paper work, informing them of the prices that could be negotiated and the steps needed to be taken to keep the tattoo clean and safe from infection. While Drake appreciated the thoroughness of the tattoo artist, he still wasn't gung ho with this decision!

Eventually, Jay stopped midway through the book, finding a font that struck him as appealing. "Hey, I want this one," he pointed repeatedly. "But with this name on my wrist." Then, sloppily with a blurred pair of eyes, Jay wrote out the name he requested, only to have the tattoo artist lean over and squint at the messy writing.

"Delilah?"

"Oh, forget it," Jay waved. "I'll just _verbally_ say it: _Delia_," he said, trying to be articulate with his pronunciation between his staggering voice. "As in my estranged wife who probably hates my guts with good reasoning. But hey? I can't help myself! I've still got the hots for her!" he admitted, laughing in another mild fit.

The tattoo artist gave him a strange look. "Uh, okay."

Nevertheless, the worker went back to preparing the required tools, leaving Drake with one final opportunity at swaying his brother. "Jay, you can't do this," he persisted in a harsh whisper. "If you were halfway coherent you _wouldn't_ do this-"

"You don't know what I want."

"_Yes, I do_. You're an intelligent and on _most_ occasions logical guy. Reckless maybe, but you wouldn't do something so stupid without at least thinking about it first! Without having a reason!-"

"I've thought about this, Drake. And I know what I want. I want _her_ name tattooed on _my _wrist _forever_," he asserted passionately. "'Cause c'mon, you seriously think she's gonna take me back after all the shit we've been through?"

"If you're not drunk, sure!" Drake replied, feeling as if he was losing his mind by this conversation.

And still, Jay was unshakeable in his decision. He threw one last gaze at his little brother, showcasing another depressing glaze over his eyes. His mouth seeped into a frown. "Let me at least have a piece of her while I still can."

A soft croak leaped from Drake's throat, but for another time that night he felt unable to make a convincing argument. Evidently, there was no telling Jay otherwise. His mind was made up, and all Drake could do was watch over the procedure. Even if it was horrifying to witness and left him nearly speechless as he struggled to handle the present issue. _What on earth is Jay thinking? He's not thinking at all! _Drake asked himself that continuously, his hands running over his face as he attempted to soak in the turn of events. He should have expected such, that Delia would be the name Jay would wish to be printed on his skin... Yet the islander couldn't grasp the concept. Though he himself wasn't heavily intoxicated, it felt as if he too had a foggy mind as he could hardly make heads or tails of the situation.

Then the biggest question came: Had Jay just finally- _cracked_? Did he truly believe he was never going to be with Delia again? _Never _going to _see_ her?

"Now uh, you're sure you want a tattoo?" the tattoo artist made sure to ask Jay, preparing to go over the needed material that had mandatory explaining.

They both looked to Jay who gave a definite nod.

"Positive!" Jay affirmed with elation. "Without a doubt! Put that sucker right here! And don't worry about the pain. I am _sooo_ numb right now, I can't feel a thing!"

* * *

Another echoing dong erupted from the Pokémon Center's clock.

Misty sat anxiously, hands pulling on her knee length pajama bottoms as she sat on the edge of her bed, staring blankly at the door of her room. Drake had promised to only be out till nine, but it was already drawing close to ten. Misty was beside herself on what to do. During her wait, she had watched a mindless hour of television, read through a couple of magazines, took a shower, prepared herself for bed, and then stared up at the ceiling. She also made contact with Daisy, at least hoping her sisters were at a Pokémon Center and that her water creatures could be transferred back to her. Sadly, the Sensational Sisters were not, and instead found refuge in an expensive hotel with a pool, water beds, and a chair that supposedly massaged one's back to reach the deepest strained tissues. Despite her fury and aggravation, Misty was assured by Daisy that the Pokémon had been taken care of with affection between required needs. Still, as affirming as Daisy's words were, Misty wanted her Pokémon back desperately in due time.

So bitter by the news, Misty went as far as to call Prof. Oak, checking in for any possible new developments. Of course, there was nothing to report, which did not lower her spirits considerably knowing that the researcher wouldn't make such a discovery after Jay had spoken with him earlier that day. A part of Misty, however, wanted to receive some sort of hopeful revelation, to cheer up a rather depressed and melancholy Jay. For the most part, he had moped during their time out in the city, and when returning to the center for a break, he remained silent. On occasion, he would flash Misty a weak, faint smile, just to reassure the girl of his state. Yet, it would transform back into a frown, which did nothing to mask is ongoing woes. They were quite exposed in quietness even up until he and Drake left for dinner, leaving Misty to dine humbly alone in the center's cafeteria. After some time, Misty supposed she'd give the men the benefit of the doubt of their late arrival, blaming traffic or a congested restaurant. Jay was in need of a night out, to unwind and escape his burdens. Misty couldn't even begin to fathom the regret, pain, and shame he dueled with on a daily basis. Seeing it was inevitable for him to abscond from such nightmarish thoughts and condemnations made by his inner turmoil.

Comfort was still required nonetheless for Misty, and so she strived for it by the dialing of her cellphone. The screen on the small calling device brightened with brilliant light as it turned on, her ear soon pressed to the phone as a ringing sensation began. Worries continued to eat her up. In calling Drake, Misty hoped for an answer in a crowded, bombastic restaurant or street, rather than the sound of a Team Rocket grunt snickering that her two companions were in his clutches. Praying to earn a confirming and understandable response as to why their arrival back at the center was drawing so incredibly close to the deadline, the rings went straight to the Orange Crew Leader's voice mail, leaving Misty defeated. So she left a message.

"Hi Drake, it's me. Just wondering how you guys are doing, when you'll be back... Please, call me. _Soon_."

Even with such emphasis, Misty didn't feel as if her words worked any magic. Worries weren't eased and if anything, they had intensified as she tossed her cellphone aside on the bed. Frustration burned as her head lowered, hands burying themselves beneath damp, long red tresses and eyes falling to the carpeted floor. Then, unexpectedly, Misty's phone began to buzz and gyrate across the bed. Relief and elation consumed the gym leader, a hand reaching for the device. She didn't bother to check the caller I.D. for her impending solace was too overpowering.

"Hello?" she said hurriedly with subtle enthusiasm.

"Hey, Misty. It's me."

Her smile drooped.

"Oh, hi Brock."

It wasn't as if hearing from her friend brought dissatisfaction, rather a disappointment when the call she had hoped to get seemed far overdue. Earlier that day, Misty had spoken to Brock, him calling her and informing that he had safely arrived in Pallet. It was about the only bit of good news any of them could savor, especially since he was making himself at home with Ash and his family.

Immediately picking up on the girl's less than thrilled tone, Brock's own voice changed. "I might be reading into things, but it kinda sounds like you're not happy to hear from me," he said plainly, though there was a hint of concern. "Something happened?"

Misty perked up. "Oh, no- I mean, I am glad to hear from you Brock," she insisted sincerely. "It's just...Drake and Mr. Ketchum went out for drinks, and they're not back yet. Like they promised they would be," she at last sighed, eyes wandering back to the door.

"Ah," Brock responded thoughtfully. "Well, don't get too worked up about it. I'm sure they're on their way. But if something doesn't change in a little while, you let me know, okay?"

Contemplating Brock's words of wisdom, Misty attempted to put her fears in perspective. If something _didn't _change soon, Brock could provide her with comfort and numb her anxious state, but that wouldn't change the fact that she was alone, that Jay and Drake had up and disappeared, that she wouldn't know what to do... Obviously it was easier said than done.

"Yeah. I will..." Misty breathed, shaky eyes still trailing. _Please, just knock or call behind the door and tell me you guys are here. That Team Rocket ISN'T here. Please..._

The silence he was receiving on the other end tensed Brock, so he tried to keep the conversation flowing the best he could. "So besides that, how are you doin'? Everything else going okay?" he asked, _praying_ Misty wasn't being plagued with too much anxiety or hazardous trouble.

The gym leader's attention snapped back into focus. "For the most part. Except Mr. Ketchum's been in a real slump today because well, um-"

"Ash filled me in," Brock cut her off, seeing no need for her to awkwardly expand upon details he was already aware of. "I had no clue it was his parents' anniversary till he told me."

"Me neither," she announced, matching his amazed voice. Then her tone changed. Slowly it did, with another shift in gaze as sea-green eyes glimmered to the floor. Misty swallowed. "Um, Brock? W-where is Ash right now anyway?"

"...Why?"

A bite of the lip chomped down. "'Cause um- I just want to make sure he can't eavesdrop on us- on our conversation."

A small smirk slipped. _Sure_ those were Misty's intentions. Brock had now been a witness to both his friends subtle dancing around the thorny, delicate topic of love. Ash rambling with a flushed face and silly grins, Misty temperamental about the subject while putting up her guard as she squandered in denial... Both Ash and Misty asked about each other, how they were doing, where they were... It was evidence enough for Brock to pinpoint that Misty still had feelings for the rookie trainer she'd always nag about slacking and payments needing to be made for her tarnished bike, and that Ash now developed feelings for the tomboy he found so annoying yet enjoyable to tease whenever he got the chance.

"Don't worry, he's sound asleep," Brock assured, keeping his thoughts to himself. "I tuckered him out with a few rounds of video games and my popcorn mix. He's out for the night." Though the Pokémon doctor in training wanted to roll his eyes _badly_ after listening to them both beat around the bush and refuse to admit anything remotely favoring a romantic attraction to the other.

By the mention of video games and Brock's famous popcorn still working on Ash, Misty grinned. Eyes dove down to the comforter below her. "So he handled today okay?" she asked, fingers mindlessly tracing the covers.

"Oh, yeah," Brock waved. "He's all right. But Ash was worried about his mom so he talked to her."

Misty's smile faded. "Do you know what about exactly?"

"Not really. Other than she went for a run for a good hour, and that he found her and they just...talked. I'm guessing about his dad."

So Jay wasn't the only one grieving, longing... In retrospect, this news wasn't much of a surprise to Misty. On occasion while visiting Delia, she had witnessed the woman slip in thought or tongue in regards to her husband but would hurriedly find a much more mundane topic to curb the uneasy awkwardness. Misty felt saddened by this, struggling to decipher Delia's words, tone, and movement. In every instant, however, Misty always concluded the same thing. She could barely fathom how a sweet, delicate soul like Delia was handling the anniversary on her end. Wondering how polar opposite her and Jay's reactions to the distance were when compared...

"That's what I'd assume," Misty sooner than later answered, setting her contemplation aside. "Is Mrs. Ketchum all right now?"

"Well you know Mrs. K; she's always pleasant and easygoing. So it's kind of hard to tell when something's _really_ bothering her," reasoned Brock. He too had tried to discreetly undercover what Delia's troubles were, but had no luck after receiving a very guarded answer from Ash and, of course, nothing outright perturbing from his friend's mother, either. "Besides, if she needs someone to talk to- she's got Ash."

He out of anyone would understand the circumstances the best. The fact that Ash too was mourning the loss of the same person would bring about a similar hurting, and neither Misty nor Brock could deny how difficult that must have been. To think about daily, to ponder on a persisting thought that would fade back into the silence as it always had... If anything, the support the mother and son provided for each other was at least a stable trust that could not be broken by any means. Even if they were connecting on a very desolate and near hopeless past happening.

"You make a point," agreed Misty, a twinge of a faint smile growing. "At least she as Ash."

"That's a plus."

"And poor Mr. Ketchum has no one," the redhead declared, a sympathetic shake of the head following. "I feel so bad for him. You should have seen the way he looked, Brock. The way he looked _all day_. He was a wreck; even though he didn't vocalize anything, you could tell...through his eyes. He must be carrying a lot of baggage."

Brock snorted. "I think that's an understatement." He hadn't meant to be harsh about the truth, and Misty knew this, yet she fell silent soon after his remark. He couldn't see her face, but he knew she was in discomfort. Brock grew anxious. "Listen Misty, Mr. K's gonna be okay," he assured gently with logic. "We're helping him and- ultimately, what goes on between Ash's parents...that's out of our control."

A heavy sigh rang over the cellphone. "I know," Misty breathed. "I just think that- that he deserves a second chance. He never wanted to leave them in the first place..."

That couldn't be argued. From their understanding, Jay wanted no part in traveling and was content with his once domestic life. They were, after all, watching him endlessly struggle to get back home and to at last bring closure to the near ten years of misconceptions and hidden truths. But it also could not be debated that sorting out Mr. and Mrs. Ketchum's severely damaged relationship was not Misty or Brock's place. Brock recognized this instantly and saw too how such undeserving distance between a close couple hit a soft spot within Misty's heart. Being a romantic himself, he felt similar sympathies; however, Brock kept his guard up. Trust in Mr. Ketchum was more embedded than the days before, witnessing he had not only protected Misty but had not given Brock any skeptical signs of deceit. Even at that, there was still a cautious thought unyielding in the young man's mind. A shattered relationship was something not to toy with so carelessly, and Brock was only willing to cross the line so far before treading in uncomfortable and fragile territory. Though his and Misty's intentions _were_ in the right.

In return, Brock nodded thoughtfully. "I agree with you."

After that, a short pause erupted between the friends, silenced by the sticky situation they were now in the middle of. With a spinning mind of the night's already impending worries, Misty found it best to drop the topic altogether and the faint yawning from her throat indicated she was in need of rest. That, and Drake _still_ hadn't called nor had either man made an appearance... "Well, I think we better wrap our conversation up for the night," she announced. "I'm going to have to call Drake again or something."

It was Brock's turn to sigh. "All right, sleep well and be safe. And _don't_ go out on the streets by yourself. Wait for Drake and Mr. Ketchum to come back. And when they get back tell them I'll be talking to Prof. Oak sometime tomorrow."

"I'll be fine," Misty insisted with a short, warm chortle. He meant well, and she couldn't have appreciated his kindness more. "And I promise I will tell them. Goodnight, Brock."

"'Night, Mist."

And with that, she hung up. Promptly, Misty had checked her inbox to see if any messages were left while she was busy chatting, but to her dismay, nothing. Fidgety fingers ran across the screen of the empty inbox in anxiousness, while acute brooding and annoyance steamed inside the girl. Then, not a moment later, the clock struck exactly ten o'clock on her cellphone.

Misty groaned. _C'mon, guys! Where are you?_

No longer sitting idly by, the redhead rose from her bed, slipped on her slippers, and ventured towards the door. Peeking around the corner, she discovered most if not all the trainers at the center had gone to bed, alerting her tingling worries all the more. There was no sign of the men down the hall or at the front counter checking in to announce their arrival before heading to their rooms. All Misty could repetitively hope for was that they were just stuck in traffic or that the restaurant was taking their sweet time to hand them the bill...but for some reason in the back her mind, Misty feared their tardiness was something more alarming.

Something that would need her interference.

Panic struck a deep cord inside the gym leader, feet skidding to the front door of the establishment in a sudden rush. Terror had taken over her senses between every quickened step till an unanticipated presence blocked the entry with hands firmly rested on defined hips.

"No leaving the center past curfew time!"

Slamming on her breaks abruptly, Misty's feet ended their journey. She then stepped back, caught by surprise to be confronted by a peeved and stern Nurse Joy. As she shook her head, Misty regained her composure. "But Nurse Joy," she started firmly yet evenly, "my friends are still out there-"

"Well, that's not your problem to solve, young lady," the nurse interrupted sharply with a wag of her finger. "They know the rules. Doors close at ten o'clock."

Blinking back, Misty herself had forgotten the rules. But she was certain neither Drake nor Jay had, making the gym leader's anxiety rise. The worst case scenario of why they were an hour late flashed through her head as she struggled on what to do. Clearly, Nurse Joy was too adamant to let her pass by and wander around the dark streets of the lively city of Saffron. Misty wasn't at all tempted by the idea of wandering around a city where it was known for its crime at night. Yet she didn't feel right just staying in the Pokémon Center and driving herself mad with frightful terrors.

With another shake of her head, Misty persisted more meekly, more desperately. "But they _can't_ stay out there-"

"If anyone shows up I'll let you know," Nurse Joy promised sternly, silencing the girl enough for bleak satisfaction. "Now please, miss, get to bed."

There was no getting around the unbending and strict pink-haired nurse, having Misty submit begrudgingly as her voice croaked into silence. Twirling in vanquish of her wishes, Misty's feet meandered back to her corridors, though eyes refused to fully wander away from the keys jingling out of Nurse Joy's pocket. She was locking the door.

Misty gulped. _What if something happened to them? I know they have their Pokémon, and even if Team Rocket did attack them, at least they're in a big enough city to draw attention. And there's nothing I can do until morning..._ A heavy sigh escaped.

_I just didn't think they'd be so irresponsible..._

* * *

They had, unfortunately, stayed out long past the curfew time of the Pokémon Center.

Internally, Drake was exploding with frustration, the movement of his hands digging into his jet-black locks the most visible sign of his irritation. He wasn't in a position to pull Jay away from the tattoo artist, and he certainly didn't want to cause a drunken brawl if he dared to attempt to snatch his brother's now near-empty wallet away from him. Calling Misty to reassure her of their whereabouts or possibly get some form of help was just another thing Drake could cross off of his lists of options. There wasn't a single free moment where he could call or send a text to the girl, constantly playing babysitter to his older brother as he tried to wrangle him into the car.

The tattoo was complete now in even, black writing, and sadly, there was nothing Drake could do about it. Sitting there helplessly as he watched the clean needle intricately draw the Victorian cursive style and lettering of _her _name on Jay's wrist... Drake didn't know what to think. The night which had started with good intentions was turning out to be a complete disaster. Apparently, he had underestimated how much his brother was suffering on the inside, and that he had finally broken to stoop so low as to drink his problems away for the night. It only made Drake wonder if his presence was an excuse for Jay to "safely" let loose and drink.

Jay was _still_ no alcoholic, but it made the islander ponder if his brother had subconsciously taken too many slurps to erase the ongoing tension for the first time in so long. After all, he must have been desperate to escape reality, for as far as Drake knew, Jay had never been so sozzled before in his life. The anticipation of Jay's plan going into motion must have sent the man into a spiral downward. From the bad news of Prof. Oak running into dead-ends, to the anxiety, fright, and discontent of searching for an unreachable answer was slowly, but vigorously eating away at his sanity. And Drake was growing gravely concerned.

Strolling out of the tattoo parlor in the small strip mall, Drake aided his brother's stability in his walk towards the car, but soon Jay tore away from his grasp in a stumbled dash.

"Jay!" the islander called, following after him. "Jay, c'mon we're leaving! The car is _this_ way," he noted to the vehicle across the street, hopefully to catch his attention. But it wasn't working. "Jay! JAY!"

_Where in the world was he going now? _He stormed after him down the sidewalk until Jay randomly ended his trail in an alleyway that separated two businesses. Drake's speed eased up but his feet approached him in strong determination. "Where the hell are you going?" he soon demanded, exasperation starting to burn in his vocal cords.

Wobbly, Jay spun back around and slouched. "I'm tired and my wrist feels funny," he huffed, lazily holding up his newly designed wrist. Then, he glanced about and shrugged. "Let's just crash here."

Drake's pupils grew twice their normal size, his astonished gaze following the collapsing of his brother's body against a graffiti infested cement wall. "No way! I don't want to sleep here!" he retaliated. "There's a group of homeless people shooting themselves up with something over there!" he pointed out at the dark end of the alley. It was difficult to say if that was the case, but the group of rather scruffy individuals all taking turn with _something_ in their hands irked Drake into severe panic and discomfort.

His chest rising, Jay chuckled and titled his head back. "Hehe, you sound like _Mom_," he mumbled with a loose grin and closed eyes.

Teeth angrily clenched.

Being compared to Emily at a time like this was one of the last comments Drake wanted to hear. He had been fairly patient and considerate throughout the evening, but now he was about to burst. He could only imagine how frightened and panicked Misty was, if she was even able to fall asleep, not to mention if Sam called the center and asked for them, or simply the fact that they were out in the_ middle_ of the streets, _at night_, in the _second most_ populated and probably _dangerous_ city in all of Kanto.

The haunting glow of the moon shot a brilliant beam down at the darkening eerie streets. What was he doing? This wasn't his job; this wasn't what he was recruited for! Drake knew going into this that traveling across Kanto to the Indigo League wasn't going to be an enjoyable and thrilling ride one would brag about to one's friends. But he didn't expect playing caretaker to his incapacitated brother! This wasn't Jay at all! This pathetic and lowly man was not him, and not even a double-take would need to be made to realize that. He was resilient to most things that would run another ragged, bearing an incredibly thick skin and an uncanny nature to overcome the worst circumstances that seemed utterly hopeless to escape intact. All of this evidence led Drake back to the same thought. That Jay was breaking, that he was unconsciously seeking a way to vamoose from reality, just for a while, even if it went against who he truly was as a person... In all seriousness, Jay couldn't handle it. Couldn't handle being torn apart from his family, never knowing how they felt about him, or what they were feeling that painstaking day. And her... The frustration of imagining those chestnut eyes, and how they were filled with pooling, plump tears... Pity was captured in Jay's blue eyes as he flashed them upward, tugging at a sympathetic heartstring inside of Drake.

A deep exhale flew from his flared nostrils.

The things he did.

"C'mon," the islander beckoned in a low voice.

Footsteps traveled towards a sitting Jay. Then, a hand reached out and a grasp securely pulled the master up on his feet. Jay threw his fuzzy gaze to his brother as Drake stabilized an arm of Jay's over his broad shoulders.

"Wai- Wh-what are you doing?" the man sputtered, his feet tottering as he began to move.

Drake's eyes stayed focused on the parked car across the street. "Taking us to somewhere safe."

Once they made it to the car in one piece, Drake instructed Jay to ride in the backseat. From there, he carefully rolled his brother on his side to prevent him from possibly choking on his own vomit and he eased Jay's groaning with words of even assurance, and hopped into the driver's seat. Heading to the Pokémon Center was a waste of time, for the islander assumed the center was closed and that Nurse Joy was in her own private dwelling, passed out and unable to hear the men pound on the door to be let in. Besides, they were a decent distance from the establishment, their only option being to stay to a motel. A motel that was cheap but suitable for them to sleep there for one night.

Scanning one street after another while making a few turns, Drake was successful in finding a motel in decent time. It had a bright sign with florescent lights at the entrance, flashing the name _The Kadabra Motel_ most likely representing the local psychic gym. As he turned in and parked, Drake observed that the place had just a couple of cars in the lot, raising his hopes that a room was available. And that it was not empty simply because the service was so poor. Nevertheless, with a promising prospect of somewhat comfortable and fixed rest, he managed to pull Jay out of the back, visually seeing he had made it there in one piece but was in desperate need of sleep. So he went through the process of supporting his brother's unsteady movements and stepped into the business.

Inside, the motel was quiet with very plain, outdated decorations and fake tropical plants shoved in the corners. At the front counter was an older woman with curly short hair, chewing her gum with a thick slab of cherry lipstick plastered on her lips and a heavy layer of blue eye shadow to accompany the overdose of makeup. She was in the midst of reading a magazine of some kind, and it took Drake ringing the bell at the desk twice to gain her attention.

Huffing, the woman closed her supposedly riveting magazine shut, laid her arms sloppily on the counter-top, and gazed at the men with a less than lively expression. "What can I help you boys with?" she questioned in a flat, nasally voice.

"Can I have a room for two please?" Drake asked, his grasp still holding strong in aiding Jay's fumbling stance.

Since it seemed hardly anyone was occupying the motel, Drake would have assumed she'd offer a room and ask for the needed payment. But instead, she just blankly stared at him, pausing as if she was studying his face. _Now_ Drake was beginning to feel his shoulders quake under the lax and leaning weight of his brother. But then unexpectedly, the older woman wrinkled her nose. An obvious penciled-in brow rose soon after.

"Hey," she started, her monotone voice beginning to fluctuate, "aren't you Drake of the Orange Crew?"

A definite tired frown crossed Drake's face. The islander looked up at the ceiling hopelessly.

Was this night of disarray ever going to end?

* * *

**A/N Cont.:** When **WILL** it end? Poor Jay and Delia! More like, poor Drake! Life isn't fair, is it? :( Thank you all again for taking the time to read this new addition of _Sunlight's Return_. Hope you enjoyed all of it! :) Hard to, I suppose, with such turmoil going on for many of our characters... but things will get better- _eventually_. Jay _especially_ needs some help as he struggles to escape from his dark place of despair and clouded judgement. Luckily, he's got his dear brother with him! LOL. This was the first time I wrote someone drunk, let alone_ a chapter_ about it. ^^; Hopefully with my inexperience, you all had fun reading it nonetheless.

Lastly, I would just like to thank those again who left kind and encouraging reviews from the last chapter. I truly appreciate your thoughtfulness and positivity. It helps me a lot with my writing, and brings a smile to my face knowing whether these characters are up or down in their moods, situations, etc. you guys are savoring every bit of it. So thank you for the continuing support and I hope all is going well for you guys!


	14. Man of Constant Sorrow

**DISCLAIMER:** _Pokémon_ belongs to Satoshi Tajiri. My oc's belong to me.

* * *

**Sunlight's Return**

**Chapter 14**

_"Man of Constant Sorrow"_

There she was.

Basked in the moonlight, she was radiant against the stark light beams while holding their six-month-old baby in her arms. Peeking through the bedroom door, he ghosted behind her, a gentle hand at the waist, informing her of his presence. But she did not jump, and was instead soothed by his familiar touch. His fingers lightly grazed her side as a cast of blue eyes peered over her shoulder.

"He fell asleep?" Jay said rather than asked, sweetly enraptured by the round innocent face snoozing so soundly.

"Soon after you pulled in," answered Delia in a whisper, glancing to him. She had heard the truck swerve next to the house gate, making her husband's arrival known to her. "He's been fussy up until then," she explained.

And Jay could believe such. Delia's single braid was fairly intact when Jay left for work early that morning, and now it was strewn out, hair sticking out between each entwined twist, the hairband keeping the auburn tresses altogether, loose. Her pajamas were also ruffled, and the dark circles under her eyes concerned Jay deeply.

"I'm sorry I couldn't have come home sooner, Del," he apologized in a hushed tone, his arm now wrapped around his wife and tenderly massaging her shoulder. "I know you've been working overtime, hon." Every morning, Jay hated to leave Delia knowing how worn and how deserving she was of a decent break from their rightfully demanding baby. While neither one of them regretted having Ash, Jay certainly wished he could have stayed home longer to provide aid to Delia and spend time and bond with his little boy who bore a striking resemblance to his proud father.

Seeing him in the late evening, and volunteering to take night shifts for Delia to get some rest, was about the only time Jay could savor with Ash. But he didn't care about his dreary eyes and constant yawning. Holding Ash and providing necessary care filled his heart with such joy and indubitable devotion.

Sensing his sincerely apologetic tone, Delia lifted her gaze. "Don't be," she smiled reassuringly. "I know you've been working late. You must be tired, too," she noted, nuzzling under his chin.

The tickling sent a warm tingle up Jay's spine, comforted by his wife's innocent notion of affection. "Yeah..." He inhaled the sweet scent of her hair, embracing her touch.

With the physical dialogue of tenderness being quietly relished between the young couple, Jay was pacified not only by his wife's loving touch and overall presence, but completely amazed and entranced with the sleeping babe in Delia's arms. A new feeling that had been stirring within the young man for the last six months had left him lost for words to describe. Yet the feeling was so sublime, he wished he could find the exquisite poetic tongue to elucidate what was burning inside his heart.

A soft breath exhaled through his nostrils. "I just can't get over it," he said in a low voice.

Easing up on burying into his chin, Delia picked up on the wonderment in his tone. "What?" she asked.

Jay sighed thoughtfully. "How just...precious he is."

Without a second thought, Delia understood what Jay was getting across. What he was experiencing. It was the exact same feeling that had been pumping pleasantly within her own heart, both of them coming face to face with the natural love, devotion, and utter stupefaction of elation they felt for their own flesh and blood. To fully comprehend what it meant to be a doting and attentive parent for the little miracle they created...

"He is _incredibly_ precious," agreed Delia, her gentle smile perfectly intact. "Our little Ash..." Her eyes shifted from Jay to their son, her bright grin widening all the more as blissful thoughts erupted with excitement for the future. "I can't wait to discover what he'll be like," she continued, fingertips softly tracing the outline of his petite face. "His interests, his dreams..."

Trailing wonders of Delia soon consumed her husband as well. There was a haze as he recognized bits and pieces of the distant reality to come, what he somehow knew and could see of Ash, how he glowed with such content and spirit. Though his vision's fate ended in a shadowy cast. In that instant, something sharp dragged itself sluggishly, but enunciating down Jay's deepest core as if his heart was gradually trickling blood. A want, a deep desire to unearth who his son was much as Delia wanted was just within Jay's reach- yet he felt it slipping even as his fingers tenderly ran themselves across his short baby midnight locks.

Chestnut eyes abruptly lingered upward, caught off guard by what sounded like faint sobs. Delia's mouth quivered once she saw Jay's head hanging low, fright and concern bathing in her angelic voice. "What is it?" she asked, hoping to capture the shielded gaze of her husband.

In time, Jay lifted his head and tried to dry whatever tears suddenly felt inclined to pour. He didn't understand why he was crying, nor this impending fear of separation and estrangement and why they petrified his psyche on such a deep level. Steadily, he held her attention and could sense by the shift in her own eyes that his hue had turned another unreadable shade. A deep breath was sucked in.

"I never want to forget this moment," whispered Jay, his voice softening. "Of you, me, and him. Of all of us...together."

Loving fingers ran across Jay's cheek, smearing a stray tear that he had neglected to hide. Delia's beautiful bittersweet smile bloomed. "You never will."

In that precious exchange of words, the world around Jay became utterly dark. The last intelligible words repeated themselves in a taunting manner between each snooze of coma-like sleep, the reality Jay dreamt himself in slowly drifting away. As if it was out of his reach. As if he was being distanced from them, with no indicator of his family missing his presence. He was fading, murmured voices lost in a sea of garbled screams and laughter. He was slipping further and further down, now being drowned in murky depths of deep blue cold waves and blurry bubbles. Like he was reliving the action of sinking to the bottom of the ocean floor. In this instance, however, there was no hand coming to save him, to pull him out of the treacherous, pitch-black abyss he had sunk into by a force he was struggling to fight on his own-

All alone.

In a raspy gasp, eyes flew open, greeted by what appeared to be a tainted, muted color ceiling and outdated fan spinning above.

Jay crinkled his eyelids at the sight, his fuzzy gaze fluttering towards the side. Where was he? This certainly wasn't his room at the Pokémon Center; the odor alone sure gave him a clear indicator of that. Then if he was here in this foreign place... What happened last night? Jay could hardly remember a thing, though the pain on his right wrist was strangely dominant. That and the discomfort in his throbbing skull. Instantly, he had an aching feeling of his symptoms, dreading the worst while bleary remembrances of the previous night played in his mind. But sadly, the events remained ambiguous. And why was the atmosphere so quiet? And where was?-

The sound of a bathroom door opening alerted Jay to jump, yet his body scarcely moved in its weak condition. Footsteps were soon heard after a long eerie squeak resounded from the door, a shadow being cast by the side of the bed in which Jay lay upon.

"Glad to see you're up. You feeling okay?"

With an adjustment to the light, Jay saw Drake softly smiling as he stood before him. He had a hand-towel draped over his broad shoulder and was still dressed in his clothes from yesterday.

"Where were you?" Jay croaked, beginning to sit up. "Where are we?"

"I was washing my face," he replied, gesturing towards the bathroom. "I decided the shower here wasn't worth tangoing with..." As his words trailed, his hands dove for the towel hanging off him, slightly furrowed brows gleaming at the dark green fabric in his grasp. "Though unfortunately, these towels here are extremely rough. And as to where we are, I had no choice last night but to take us to a motel." He had snagged them a room outside the main lobby, helping a severely fumbling Jay up a fleet of rickety metal stairs and to a room on the top floor of the extension of the building.

Drake shot his gaze back up at his brother, finding Jay peering at him with a plain expression. His dreary eyes and clamped shut mouth indicated the effects of the hangover were lingering, and that he possibly had faint or barely any recollection of their night on the town.

The islander eventually frowned, still studying his face. "Do you remember anything from last night?" he asked, cocking a brow.

Jay's eyes shifted with a sardonic twinge. "I got wasted?" he more so stated than asked.

Sighing, Drake nodded.

A groan emerged. "God, my head is killing me." Gently, fingers met his temple, rubbing it coarsely. "Uggh, what time is it?"

"Almost eight. I called Misty late last night and finally got a hold of her this morning. I'm going to have to pick her up from the center." Another pause occurred, the abrupt scrutinizing of facial expressions commencing once again. "You seriously don't remember _anything_ from last night?" repeated Drake, hoping he wouldn't have to tell all the less than enjoyable details they endured.

Jay winced. "I told you, I _don't_. Uggh, I feel like shit," he grumbled, his tired eyes flashing up with the covering of dark bangs. "Ya mind filling me in on what happened?"

The inhaling through Drake's nostrils left Jay unsure of what to make of the previous night's escapades. And so, it was his turn to read his brother, watching him uncomfortably squirm until he slapped the side of his legs with his hands.

"Where should I start?" he breathed, now taking a seat at the edge of the bed. Staring down at the faded bedspread, Drake paused, deciding where to begin. There was so much to go over, none of which he was thrilled to do. But Jay was waiting, the anxiousness of not knowing showing through his muscle movements.

"Well," Drake slowly began, considering his wording, "let's just say you had a few too many drinks at the bar."

"Thanks, Sherlock, I already figure that one out," snapped the master. Another aggravating jolt to his head added to his flared temper. "Mind telling me something I don't already know?" he threw back, and leaned his head against the headboard. It was incredibly hard. Uncomfortable.

Huffing at the snappy remark, Drake's expression stiffened with seriousness and exasperation. "First," he started once more, folding his arms over his chest, "you made me ingest this weird drink that was green and bubbly, and had a really sour flavor-"

"I remember that."

At least he could recall that much. Then again, that was _before_ Jay was fully intoxicated.

"You also irritated the bartender after_ four_ porter beers and _one_ shot of tequila; you quoted _Wuthering Heights_, you rallied a _whole_ group of men and shared _personal_ stories, one about sex deprivation, might I add-"

"Oh, God," grumbled Jay, his face falling into his hands. Slowly, he rubbed his fingers down his face, desperate eyes glancing to Drake with uneasiness. None of that was he proud of, but the last one surely rattled his nerves. "_Please_ tell me it wasn't anything overtly dirty-"

"No, you said it in a much more- _poetic_ way."

That was the best way Drake could describe Jay's internal struggle regarding his lack of intimate lust. Even at that, the want to know more and the fear of _knowing_ the truth rode heavily in Jay's gut, and left him torn on if he should put the kibosh on his brother's confessions of the night or let him proceed. Already, barely into the night of embarrassing actions, he felt like an utter fool.

"Well, that much is comforting," sighed Jay. His head drooped down, a hand resting on his forehead. He inhaled. "Continue."

"Then, before that you shared very personal things with me in which I didn't expect nor want to hear," Drake explained, immediately causing Jay to rise up. "Like the song you danced to at prom with...her. And...Mark, for example."

In what he thought would send his brother into a deep shade of red out of the reveal or either be sent into a complete tirade at the mention of the sleazy man, Drake was shockingly faced with quietness. The rhythmic sound of the old fan spinning above took over the room, faint dust particles being kicked up as they fell to the unattractive carpet. He continued to watch Jay closely, gulping as he forecast some kind of negative response.

Sooner than later, Jay squinted, his face scrunched. "_Who_?"

Raised brows and a theatrical agape mouth occurred. Obviously, Jay's increasing headache was preventing from recalling _many_ things. "You've got to be kidding me?" said the islander, utterly baffled. "The guy who supposedly made a pass at Delia? I'm sure it hasn't been easy to forget _him_."

That was true. Dismissing the man who had attempted to pursue his wife and send his son into a scared frenzy- that had_ not_ been so easy to forget, to simply let go and say: let bygones be bygones. A part of Jay could not blame Delia if she was intending on seeking a loving companion elsewhere, but still the idea of her not being with _him_ frustrated the master in such a way he had never felt before. Back in their high school days of fluctuating emotions and rapidly changing hormones, Jay never had a fondness for Mark, nor did he necessarily detest him. He was just...there. And rather annoyingly cocky with his bragging rights on the baseball team and his even, glistening tan that always made girls squeal. Otherwise, Jay hardly gave the guy a single thought or glance till he had seen him slowly court his friend. His _best_ friend.

In turn, Jay found himself in bitter silence. He wasn't known for jealousy in his character, feeling all the more irked and confused over the situation. Delia was important to him, and soon he realized this was because she was his first _real _friend. Someone who really cared about him and recognized every fiber of what made him...Jay. Delia was too good of a friend to let something stand in the way of their blooming friendship, and the sudden conception of her being with someone else... Jay and Delia were already facing a minor strain in their new friendship thanks to Annie's original dislike for Delia over her winning a local beauty pageant, perpetuating the whole situation of Delia's avoidance of Jay. It was a classic high school fiasco Jay felt belonged on the cover of an overrated chick flick. Surprisingly, though, it wasn't until Annie came around and begrudgingly saw Delia for who she was, and Chad's constant prodding at Jay to _do_ something, to _say_ something...

To tell her how he felt about her.

So after all those unnecessary obstacles, Jay was staggered Mark came back around for a second time so many years later, seeing his petty attempt at asking Delia out never fell through and such drama seemed to hardly exist between the once two teenage boys. Neither one of them spoke about it, and Delia willingly agreed she wished to be better friends with Jay, and very much _closer_ in some ways... Needless to say, the entire Mark situation of him coming to Pallet to aid Prof. Oak in "research" truly threw Jay for a loop. He could barely stomach what Mark had tried to do at the reunion when Prof. Oak calmly informed him of the unforeseen spectacle. And poor Delia, undeservingly manipulated and forced into a highly unbearable confrontation she wanted no part in...

For a moment, Jay gleamed down at the discolored cover on the bed. The mention hit him like a ton of bricks. "No... It hasn't... What did I say about him?" he asked quietly, now looking to Drake.

"Just...stuff," he replied cautiously. It was probably wise not to go into the details at the present time, and Drake was still struggling on how to broach the subject to begin with. However, he knew Jay wanted answers and, in a sense, he deserved to hear what juicy details he disclosed to Drake. Just not now.

Firmly, but with slight nervousness, the islander spoke again. "Listen Jay, we can talk about that later. There's um- something more pressing I think I should tell you."

In truth, that _other_ thing had been on Drake's mind all morning. Worrying endlessly how Jay would react to the result of this little stunt. He cringed silently, trepidation beginning to go to his head once more.

Catching on to the anxiety in Drake's eyes, Jay panicked. "What? What did I do?" Then, the color in his face started to drain. "Don't tell me I did something stupid to jeopardize-"

"No," Drake cut in, waving his hands. He understood what he was implying. "There was _no_ girl who came home with us. Believe me, I already saw that one coming and hauled you out of the bar before you noticed."

"Then what the hell did I do?"

If they carried on this guessing game, Drake believed there was a slim chance of his brother actually unveiling the correct answer. It was torture enough to make him wait for the truth, and the islander was already antsy keeping it to himself. Predicting how Jay was going to handle the news...that's what held Drake back. Fidgety fingers on his thighs, eyes glancing about as he conjured how to approach the subject. Either way Drake looked at it, no matter how delicate he was, telling Jay of the new and_ permanent_ design on his right wrist wasn't going to go over smoothly.

A steady breath was sucked in. "If I tell you..._promise_ me you won't freak out?" Drake proposed, a slight bite of the lip occurring.

There was a pause that lingered as Jay gave his brother a suspicious eye. What would be so startling for him to have to swear he wouldn't act in an upset nature? "When you make someone promise something like that I think that entails a required freak-out," Jay frowned, unsure what to think.

"Well then, cut out a heavy dose of swearing and try not to yell," negotiated the islander.

If he was ordered to decline from cursing and raising the volume of his voice, then Jay assumed whatever was about to come next wasn't going to be easy to digest. Nonetheless, he bravely withstood the news. A watchful eye remained as Drake paused. Being blunt seemed like the best option rather than beating around the bush. Jay was already nettled by his aches and if he stalled for much longer, he wasn't sure how patient he was going to be. Drake supposed it was like ripping off a Band-Aid. A Band-Aid that revealed a very bold and impulsive piece of writing now permanently engraved on flesh.

Situating himself to fully look at him, Drake sucked in a calming breath. "Jay... You got a tattoo."

A blank stare was received. Then, eyebrows furrowed.

"_A what_?" the master gaped, his tone riding on flabbergasted with a sharp twinge.

Regardless, Drake kept a straight face. "A tattoo," he repeated. "On your right wrist."

"No, no, I heard you," Jay surprisingly said, blue eyes starting to grow wild with shock. "I'm just trying to wrap my head around _why_ I'd do that."

A thoughtful look was given. "I think you know why."

Falling silent, Jay ruminated. Slowly he stretched his right arm out, and his fingers captured the end of his long jacket as he finally displayed the scar of the night's incidents. Exploding with astonishment and anger might have been his first reaction, though it appeared it was quickly numbed by a grim reality. It said her name. The name that had been haunting him all yesterday and into his state of REM sleep. Now, not only the thought of her but the indestructible _mark_ of her existence could not be so easily forgotten during the moments he tried to escape reality. Jay could not fully escape the pain. And he had done it to himself. Willingly, by the hunger to have her by his side again.

For time to stand still in a period when everything they had was so delicately perfect, yet fragile between every shatter of silence.

"You couldn't stop me, could you?" the master at last said.

"I didn't want us to get into an accidental brawl," Drake confessed. "You were very persistent about it and I-"

"Don't. You don't need to explain yourself."

His mouth stayed open, though words could not be produced. Drake saw his brother harden, and while his thoughts had been spoke out-loud, the islander could tell he was internally pummeling himself for his actions, asking himself repeatedly why he did what he did. Why he had snapped...

Leaning forward, Drake laid a hand on his brother's shoulder. "Jay, don't worry about that." He wished his reassuring words would draw Jay's attention away from the tattoo, and it did, only for the master to pull the sleeve back down in a forceful tug. Still, Drake tried to remain calm and understanding. "Like I said, we can talk more later. Right now I need you to feel better and for me to go pick Misty up. She's been worried sick…not to mention, _exceptionally_ peeved."

A part of his reassurance eased Jay to a point, muscles relaxing and his body shifting back down onto the bed. The mattress was so incredibly hard, and he reminded himself of such as his back made contact with the lumpy surface. "Just blame me," he waved, his normal tone returning. "But tell her not to yell at me till _at least_ my headache has passed."

Observing Jay lounge, his eyes closing in hopes of ceasing his fierce headache, Drake saw a tiny smile emerge from Jay's lips. "Can do," he very faintly chuckled. And so, rising from the bed, Drake was about ready to head out, feeling he could end the immediate conversation.

But first, he informed his older brother of a couple things before exiting. "When you wake up I got some coffee and water here for you, but don't chug it all down," he cautioned, hoping Jay was listening behind closed eyes. "Just take sips and to see how you feel. And I got you some Aspirin, too. And don't take a shower, the hot water won't help-"

"_I know_, Mother Hen. And you said the shower's disgusting, anyway," Jay added sourly.

Apparently, from the agitation in his vocal cords, he was begrudgingly heeding to Drake's worries. "I'll be back in at least twenty minutes," he announced, now walking towards the front door. "Misty and I will come back and get you, and then I'll drive us to Cerulean as we originally planned."

He took charge of planning the day's itinerary and handled the night's unexpected twists and turns without a single complaint. Took care of both him and _now_ Misty. Eyes opening, Jay saw his brother's back was turned to him, a hand firmly gripping the doorknob as it began to twist.

Abruptly, Jay sat up.

"Hey, Drake?"

The islander glanced over and waited.

A half-smile emerged from Jay's lips. "Thanks."

In return, Drake faintly smiled and left with a quiet click of the door shutting. Jay always knew he was lucky to have Drake as his little brother, and appreciated him all the more for his act of patience and kindness. Now he had saved his hide on two occasions, one year ago out on the very island of Pummelo and presently on the road to a hopefully brighter and better future. Jay wanted to fully thank his brother, and supposed he'd do so once he felt fully like himself. And when that horrific pounding in his head ceased or, at least, reduced itself. He also had to deal with Misty, feeling downright guilty for his mishap, yet dreading the skirmish with the fiery girl all the same...

Sighing, Jay's dry mouth indicated he needed something to drink, while his head cried for relief. His legs shook faintly as he propped his body up and maneuvered his shoes to land securely on the floor. From there, he rose with decent balance and discovered the glass of water, the mug of coffee, and the bottle of Aspirin sitting on the hideously outmoded and tattered nightstand. Extending his arm, Jay clutched the rattling bottle, cranking open the lid in one twist and pouring a full dosage in the palm of his open hand. Once screwing the lid back on, Jay placed the bottle down and popped the correct allotment into his mouth, his head leaning back as they flew inside. As if he had done this a dozen times like an old routine, Jay grasped the mug and took a swig of his black coffee to ease the medicine down. When the slightly chilled liquid hit the back of his throat, he realized how poor of a blend the common morning beverage was, a disgusted taste that he wished he could wash out. Though it didn't terminate the flavors dancing on his tongue, Jay took a sip of water afterwards, slowly wandering to the bathroom to somewhat diminish the grime of yesterday.

The need to wash his own face was dire, but after his brother's complaint of the towel's unappealing bristly exterior, Jay cleansed his skin with splashes of water in the palms of his hands. Leaning forward, back hunched with arms spread and hands clinging onto the each side of the worn sink, Jay stared into the smeared mirror. How in one night had he messed up so badly? How could he have so carelessly had too many drinks, and place Drake in an uncomfortable and difficult situation to remedy? And that dream...

His head swiveling over his shoulder, a distinct knock broke his silent thoughts at his reflection. Someone was at the door. He turned off the pathetic stream of clear liquid with a quick twist, walking towards the front door huffing. _Drake probably forgot the keys to the car, _Jay mused.

With one casual swing, the master opened the door and was unexpectedly confronted with not his fit younger brother, but what appeared to be a Bulbasaur sitting perfectly still on the cement. Jay cocked a peculiar eye at this, puzzled by its sudden appearance. The grass Pokémon looked real at first glimpse, but as Jay stared harder at it, noticing not a single movement was made, he could smell troubling brewing.

Tragically, however, he could not react fast enough. In the blink of an eye, the pastel green bulb on the creature's back spewed open, releasing a smog with a scent uncommon to the natural fumes a Bulbasaur would give off. Feet tried to move backwards and escape, but as the vapors traveled up Jay's nostrils, he was left paralyzed by the odor. Terror didn't have enough time to grapple his stunned mind, eyes fluttering instantly, his body powerless, and speech significantly slowing. Muscles relaxed tremendously, steps losing control as Jay began to sway.

And in those wobbly movements, he was only able to get a few words out. The discernible, that is.

"That's not a Bulbasaur..."

Collapsing in the entryway, Jay lost consciousness, lying as if he had fallen asleep right then and there. His head twisted to the side as a cheek lay against the metal-strip in the doorway, his hands sprawled forward and his breathing softening into steady rates. His eyes closed. For once, Jay was fully vulnerable.

As the bulb closed shut, almost in a rigid, robotic movement, two pairs of feet prowled around each side of the door, shadows being cast on the soon to be blazing hot cement. Sharp, devious eyes fell upon a helpless Jay. Then, an exchange of devilish, toothy smiles and faint snickers fell from clenched teeth.

Finally, they had him.

* * *

Morning in Pallet came with every expected greeting of the Pokémons' cries to the shining rays. The light renewing the life below with energy by its powerful bright casts of gold.

Ash was, to no one's shock, the last one to emerge downstairs. Taking his sweet time getting dressed, he and Pikachu happily plopped down at the table to savor a breakfast made by Brock. Delia was bustling outside, taking in the scent only mornings could bring while she watered her garden before work. Ash and Brock informed Delia of the meal's completion, but she insisted they go on and eat without her, seeing as she still had to go back upstairs and change for work. So after feeding Pikachu and the mouse felt inclined to jump up on the table and quietly beg Ash for more, as the two young men sat at the table. Brock indulging in a fried egg, a small wedge of watermelon, and an English muffin, while Ash splurged on his friend's famous scrambled hash filled with fluffy eggs, bacon, potatoes, onions, peppers, and tomatoes. Which Ash would occasionally sneak a potato over to his furry companion.

Halfway through the meal, they discussed lighthearted subjects ranging from how their Pokémon were faring to the blooming vegetable garden of Delia's they couldn't help but admire. Brock thinking about all the recipes he could make with the fresh organic veggies, and Ash dreaming about diving into every delicious bite... All was fairly casual until Brock cut another juicy thin slice out of his crisp egg, recalling something Delia had mentioned earlier. Something that Ash was apparently all twitterpated to tell him about, and she didn't want to spoil the surprise for her son...

Stopping midway through a slit of his egg, fork and knife resting in his grasp, Brock threw his gaze up at Ash. "So, uh, your mom mentioned some big news you might want to tell me," began the doctor-in-training, now continuing to sever his last fried egg. "That is, if you hadn't already. But I didn't think you did," he added between a full chew.

More like that morning, Delia had asked Brock if he had heard the big news, and when he gave her a clueless look in return she hypothesized Ash neglected to enlighten his friend. Though with how persistent Brock was onto Dani, Ash could hardly get a word in all afternoon and into the evening.

"Big news?" Ash blinked, staring blankly as Pikachu snagged a potato off his plate. He was trying to recall if there were any life-changing events and uncovered none, until his mind fully rebooted for the day, reminding him of the little surprise Delia revealed once they settled their minor dispute a week ago.

A sudden smile grew from his lips. "Oh, that's right! Hold on!"

With newfound excitement, Ash bounced from his chair and raced into the living room. Brock stayed seated and innocently unaware of what this "news" was. Sooner than later, Ash emerged back into the kitchen, accidentally flashing the magazine cover and, in turn, attempted to stealthily hide it behind his back again.

His grin grew wider as he stood by Brock. "Ya wanna guess?" asked Ash.

"I can see you're holding a Pokémon magazine, so it's gotta be something good," the older trainer said, all the more thrilled to hear the new development.

"It definitely is! See for yourself."

Pulling the magazine out behind his less than clever hiding spot, Ash swiftly flipped through the pages and landed on the one he had wished to share. He had stared at and read the article countless times, practically memorizing the page numbers, too. However, for Brock, what he read right in front of him, the thing that had pushed his breakfast aside...the declaration wasn't nearly as fantastic as Ash perceived it to be. At least, under certain circumstances for Brock. On any other given day, he'd be just as electrified, anxious to read every page and flood Ash with a handful of questions. But now, given he already _knew _who the master _was _and how, ironically, the skilled trainer was so personally connected to Ash...

"_W-wow_," was all Brock managed to croak out, and a tremulous one to boot as he gawked at the bold headline.

But Ash didn't pick up on it. "Can you believe that, Brock?" he said incredulously. "We're gonna have a new Pokémon Master!"

"Wow, this is...something," he spat out, eyes wide, hardly knowing if he should look to Ash or the magazine slapped in front of him. He swallowed, regaining his shaken composure. "I had...no idea."

"I don't think any of us saw this coming! Amazing, right?" Ash continued with passionate enthusiasm, the shock evidently still wearing off on him. "They said there hasn't been one in over fifty years, and the announcement is going to take place here in _Kanto_ at the _Indigo Plateau_! What could get better than that?"

A lot of things. One, for Brock _not_ to be caught in the middle of this highly uncomfortable situation.

Squirming, he tried to collect himself. Though as he felt his lips move upward, the smile was so painfully forceful. "Yeah, it's um- pretty amazing. _Really_ amazing that you know," he mumbled, turning away with a harsh bite to the lip.

So this was the extravagant revelation Delia mentioned? Wait. Both Ash_ and_ Delia knew? At that instant, Brock cursed mentally. This wasn't good. If the press had already released the announcement of a new master, then they were bound to also publish his name, age, birthday, hometown, and_ family_ if they wished to go to the extreme. And with that in mind, what would Ash and Delia think? How would they react? Anger, sadness? Jay had assured him and Misty that the proclamation wouldn't be exploited until he was safely located at the league hall, and all agreed it was best for his family to hear this news from Jay's mouth alone. However, that wasn't exactly convenient or practical at the present time.

Brock felt his cheeks flush. This wasn't good. This wasn't good _at all_.

Still caught up in his glowing rapture, Ash didn't take notice of Brock's avoidance of eye-contact nor his nibbling of fingernails. It wasn't until he rose from his seat and picked up his half-finished dishes that Ash observed his hurried movements.

"Uh, you know what Ash?" he started slowly, his plate and silverware rattling as he settled them on the kitchen counter. "I just remembered something. I gotta- I gotta head to Prof. Oak's this morning."

"I'll go with ya, Brock."

Of course he smiled, and _of course_ he didn't think anything of Brock's actions. He acknowledged his friend was done eating, but didn't think as to why Brock had become so hurried to scurry to the next agenda on his list for the day. Brock admitted he was somewhat subtle about it, but he was still surprised Ash hadn't said _something_. Evidently, though they hadn't traveled together in a couple of years, Ash still bore an innocent ignorance about him.

Brock waved, now trying to go about it differently. "It's okay. You don't have to tag along," he assured, as if meandering to the famous Oak Lab was going to be an absolute humdrum outing. "I doubt you'll be interested. I've been keeping in touch with him on occasion, and when I told him I was coming to Pallet he just uh- wanted to show me a um...documentary. Yeah, a documentary!" he repeated in a more buoyant voice. "About the- medical advancements we have made for Pokémon. He thought it would be great knowledge to acquire for my...studies. And I wouldn't want to bore you with medicine distributors and the science behind surgical tools."

If Brock predicted correctly, he would presume the words "medicine distributors" and "surgical tools" would send Ash into a snore-fest. He felt so confident about this, that he took a bite of his unfinished breakfast. To his disappointment, however, educational videos and discussion on something deeper than current battle stats and levels didn't appear to steer Ash away from learning something new.

"Nah, I wouldn't be bored," he shrugged, shoving his hands in his jean pockets. "Sounds kinda neat, and I think it'd be cool to learn more about what you're interested in. Besides, Prof. Oak's been doing some research on Ho-Oh and he told me he'd let me know what he's found so far."

Instantaneously, as if receiving grave news, Brock froze stiff and, in the process, nearly choked on the piece of English muffin resting in his throat. Ash's oblivious nature wasn't helping one bit, and now knowing that he not only knew of a new Pokémon Master but also of Prof. Oak's present investigation...how could things get any worse?

A creaking sound surfaced from the living room, then ended with a subtle thud.

"Ho-Oh?" Delia interrupted, rounding around the corner with a handful of picked dahlias. "Is that some kind of Pokémon?"

While entering the house, she had overheard the last part of their conversation and was now harmlessly inviting herself into the mix. Brock wouldn't mind on any other occasion, but at a time like this- he was in a real pinch!

"_Yeah_, Mom," Ash said, rolling his eyes with a slip of a huff. "It's a legendary Pokémon. And Prof. Oak's researching it." He never expected his mother to be just as enthralled with Pokémon as he was. But Delia did take a course from Prof. Oak in her high school years, which Ash assumed she'd retain some information from the educational lectures. Then again, Ash doubted legendaries and their origins were discussed readily in a class based mostly on battling and comprehending the complexity of average Pokémon. Plus, Ash was sure his mother wasn't just taking the class solely to better understand her grass Pokémon. Well, at least those were her intentions in the beginning, before she met him...

"Really?" inquired Delia, grabbing the empty turquoise vase she had set out earlier on the table. "Well, that sounds interesting. But Ash, if Prof. Oak is working, then I'm sure he's very busy. And remember what we talked about? What you were going to do _today_?" admonished the mother, giving her son a watchful eye as she walked over to the sink.

Without the need to ponder, the teenager understood his mother's implied wishes. On the contrary, Ash did not want to submit to the order. On his to-do list, Ash didn't consider confronting a most likely uncooperative and smug Gary with a bitter apology to top off the riveting activity he desperately wanted to settle. Avoiding the topic altogether sounded like a grand idea; nonetheless, Ash knew better than to do such.

"Oh, yeah," he blinked. His short pause ended, however, flashing pleading chocolate eyes up at Delia with desperation. "But Mom, this would only take a few minutes. This is kind of important to me. I really, _really_ want to know what Prof. Oak has found out. He could be discovering something brand new no one else has ever uncovered!-"

"And, that's perfectly fine," cut in Delia once more. "But again, Ash, I want you to take care of that thing we talked about earlier before anything else. It's been over a week, and I think it's for the best for you to confront it and move on," she went on advising, the vase she held filled with a plentiful level of water. From there, she ignored Ash's distinct moan of retaliation, turned off the rushing water, and meticulously arranged the bright colorful dahlias on the table.

Out of obstinate tendencies, Ash plastered a frown across his face. Though he found its existence no use, for once Delia appeared satisfied with her bouquet of homegrown flowers she pranced by and gave him a soft side-hug for encouragement. "Now please, be the bigger person and handle the situation like the mature young man I _know_ you are."

Torn, Ash ultimately replied with a faint nod of his head, earning a bright smile from Delia and a quick kiss on his head. He grimaced a little at the touch, due to Brock's presence and the heat he could feel burn on his cheeks. Usually, he didn't mind his mom's motherly acts of affection, but she didn't have to kiss him in front of his older friend, _especially_ after giving him a life lesson on handling difficult circumstances.

"I'll see you when I get home this evening," Delia said sweetly, rubbing his shoulder briefly. "You boys have a good day!"

And with that, she journeyed into the living and to the stairs so she could change for work. Unable to break completely from his embittered state, Ash protested with another classic moan.

"But Mom-"

"No buts!" she yelled up the stairs.

If Delia hadn't said her rebuttal so nicely in her naturally pleasant voice, Ash would have been twice as annoyed and stubborn about the problem as he already was. Groaning, with no choice but to surrender to the argument, his fingers ran over his face. Then he hopelessly looked to Brock, who was still in the dark regarding the whole motherly lecture Delia believed had enough importance to address.

"Be the bigger person?" echoed Brock, cocking an eyebrow.

"Gary," Ash replied bitterly, slumping back into his chair. Then, he rested his cheek glumly in the palm of his hand and he leaned an elbow on the tabletop.

Having enough awareness of Ash and Gary's squabbles, Brock didn't bother pressing what brought about the supposed fight and why his friend had to go to great lengths to apologize to Gary. While he didn't know a scant amount of dirt on the situation, Brock doubted Gary rightfully deserved an apology. More likely, he figured Delia was setting her son on the right course of forgiving and holding himself accountable for his end of the drama.

"Ah," he said, recognizing the familiar tone of disgust Ash had used countless times with his old rival. Standing awkwardly, Brock twisted his mouth, unsure of where to go from there. Eventually, he adjusted his throat. "So uh, do you?-"

"Go on ahead to the lab. I'll deal with Gary," Ash decided with the seeping of another huff. Going to face a mild fear of his... Ash surely didn't want to, yet the constant ringing of his mom's pensive words in his head reminded him of the necessity of how to properly handle dilemmas like this. God help him, though, if Gary _dared _to pull another stunt similar to his previous heinous act.

Hesitantly, Ash gleamed up at Brock, only to break into a very weak smile. "But could you _at least_ ask Prof. Oak if he's got any new leads for me?" he nearly begged, believing he warranted that much if he had to go have a less than endearing conversation with Gary.

Brock nodded and smiled. "Sure thing, Ash."

It was the least he could do, given Ash had to take on a task he'd rather shy away from. The only problem was...how much information could Brock really share on the majestic phoenix?

* * *

"I'm _so_ sorry, Misty. I can't say that enough."

Drake had asked for pardon at least ten times, in between helping Misty carry out their entire luggage and driving them back to the motel. When he originally drove up to the Pokémon Center, he discovered Misty standing outside the front entrance, arms full of bags and brows ever so noticeably furrowed. Vexation could not even begin to describe Misty's current state, giving the islander a mild earful elucidating her worries, and because they were so frightening and dramatic, had nearly kept her up most of the night. Drake heard her out without objection, and even if he wished to silence Misty, he could not, seeing there was no stopping a fervent girl who wasn't afraid of speaking her mind. Scrutiny of her actions could not be permitted either, so Drake- after a few sad attempts of calmly explaining- allowed Misty to vent to her capacity until she was run dry of fury. Drake could see this was simply her way of expressing a level of care and genuine concern for his and Jay's whereabouts and states. The incidents and how she was left in the dark so late into the night were what truly angered her, not the men themselves.

Even if it didn't come across that way at first glimpse.

It seemed that once Misty had a chance to unleash all her built-up tension, Drake and she were able to squeeze the last bit of luggage in the trunk of the car and swerve off to the motel. On the way, he at last earned the opportunity to explain to the gym leader the night's ongoing dramas, sympathy and understanding starting to stir within Misty's eyes and heart.

Nonetheless, she was still a tad disconcerted.

Misty stared out the window on her side, watching buildings and people walking about pass by as they drove along. Eventually, she sighed. "I know," she mumbled. She had seen the gleam in Jay's eyes earlier yesterday, witnessing the grieving of the relationship he originally had with his wife. And how he once was able to spend most days with her in utter peace and loving security.

The redhead soon breathed out another sigh, having compassion for Ash's father, yet frustration and astonishment still boiling inside of her. "It's just- how could you let him get so drunk?" she boldly questioned, the baffling tone evident in her vocal cords.

It was Drake's turn to sigh. "I wish I knew. Honestly, Misty, the night was a big blur to me and still is. Jay was really in a dark place. He wasn't acting like himself." Acknowledging such sent Drake into another plunge of guilt, his head dipping as he shamefully watched the road. "It was a bad idea for me to take him out. This is all my fault."

"No, no, Drake," Misty insisted immediately, soft sea-green eyes beaming towards him. She had no intentions of putting Drake on a guilt-trip, though she herself had every right to be livid and scared after tossing and turning all night. "It wasn't your fault. You were just trying to do something nice for your brother. It's understandable. Besides, you didn't make him drink himself to death."

"Yeah, but I _allowed_ it," contradicted the islander. "I just hate confrontation, and Jay was so... Well, never mind," he speedily dismissed, shaking his head. Silence filtered the air as a few seconds passed by, Misty returning her gaze to the side window while Drake went on paying attention to the road.

Shortly after, he felt the need to brighten their drive over to the motel, looking to Misty with a growing grin. "Hey," he started, earning her focus, "if it makes you feel any better, Jay's beating himself up for it. And he said you can yell at him once his headache is gone."

A faint chuckle leaped from her throat. "It does a little..." That lighthearted thought was strong enough to lift the corners of Misty's mouth, her mind unwinding and eagerness rising to head to the motel and give Jay a good dose of his own medicine.

They were drawing awfully close by this time. Drake just barely beginning to turn into the parking lot, watching the sharp angle he made, while Misty's eyes were fixated on something else entirely. Nose scrunched, brows lowered, and eyes squinted as she leaned close to the side window, she was drawn to a peculiar pair of figures. They were dressed in average clothing, yet something foreboding pounded in Misty's heart. Their hair, height, body type, and the most bizarre part being they were struggling to carry what looked like a sleeping Nidoking... Then again, though the distance was a little far, it was unclear if the creature was snoozing, for it hung so limply, and the texture of the supposed skin could not fully convince Misty it was real. More than anything, it resembled something closer to fabric...

Suddenly, a flash of a male with a familiar haircut and green locks looked up, wincing with clenched teeth as they moved in tiny wobbly steps across the sidewalk. Immediately, this provoked a deeper rise in suspicion, Misty's heart beating uncontrollably. Red eyebrows narrowed as she gleamed harder, closer. "Is that?..." Without a second to spare a shrill gasp shot up her throat, staring at the scene of a golden haired woman yelling at the man as the Pokémon lifelessly swayed in their arms. They were drawing close to a car. One of the middle seats' doors already open. It could only mean one thing-

Confirming their identities out of arrant intuition, Misty was certain that what they were lugging was _not_ a Pokémon.

"Oh, my gosh!" the redhead shrieked, eyes wide and panicked. "O-oh, my God! Drake, they have him!" she proclaimed in sheer fright, gripping and shaking his toned arm.

Drake's head swiveled, eyes alarmed, as he looked to her in confusion. "What?!"

"They have Mr. Ketchum!" exclaimed Misty, her index finger pointing outside the window to the only remotely familiar figures struggling to carry what appeared to be a Nidoking. "See! It's Cassidy and Botch!"

Slamming the steering wheel with the palm of his hand, Drake sped up and swerved hurriedly into the parking lot. "Shit!" he cursed under his breath.

The loud screech into the near empty lot didn't appear to alarm the two moving figures. If anything, the pair, who was now confirmed Team Rocket agents, had become impatient and restless due to the_ body_ they were carting by their own pure strength. Footsteps ended in an abrupt stop, Butch looking off into the distance. An inkling ringing in his ears and into his head distracted him from completing the job proficiently and fast.

"I have the eerie feeling someone got my name wrong," the grunt proclaimed, suspicious eyelids puckering with a hiss. "_Again_-"

"Uggh, pay attention, Buffy!" groaned Cassidy, dismissing his strange insistence. "Just get him in the car already!" The weight of their captive was starting to quake under her lean arms, and she didn't plan on hauling a fully grown, fit man back to their car while Butch was in the midst of pondering over a delusion.

"The name is Butch!" he snapped with a show of teeth. "And I'm tryin', I'm tryin'!"

In small but speedier steps, the two agents hustled and were able to maneuver to the car, heaving their abductee in one swing, and soon he crashed into the back seat. They were so much in a rush that neither Cassidy nor Butch bothered to lock the door with security, slamming it closed with the tip of the tail of the Nidoking costume sticking out.

"There!" Cassidy exclaimed, rounding the car. "Let's go!" In unison, the grunts jumped into both sides of the car, Butch seating himself in the driver's seat while Cassidy landed in the front passenger side. Neither one went to the trouble of safely buckling themselves in before starting up the engine, already in the midst of scurrying out with a full tank of gas.

It felt, as Misty and Drake gawked at the moving vehicle, that while they were cruising at a faster pace than before, the car they were after was slipping away right before their eyes with no chance of catching the criminals in the act.

"They're getting away!" cried Misty.

A clenching of teeth ensued, Drake's blue eyes darkening as he saw the grunts' car turn and travel into traffic with Jay in tow without a single scuffle. This couldn't be it. _They_ couldn't get away. After staying at that abhorrent and frankly terrifying bed and breakfast; after Drake had participated in vanquishing Team Rocket's destruction of the festival; after he had survived the most chaotic car chase; after everything he had gone through the previous night, being there for his brother in his drunken breakdown... It had only been a few weeks, but in those few weeks, Drake had awakened a quiet, tenacious side that was direly calling to be unleashed. Cassidy and Butch weren't going to drive off in celebratory victory, Jay being the trophy they would so giddily hand over to their demented crime boss.

Not on Drake's watch.

The car's engine thundered as Drake veered. "No, they're not."

* * *

"I'm takin' off, Grandpa."

"So soon?"

If only Gary _could_ stay longer. He knew he couldn't, though, seeing he had a much more crucial matter to attend to than tinkering with his grandfather in his lab. The embarrassing incident at the inn had led to a quarrel between him and Harper, followed up with her promptly leaving Pallet and refusing to answer Gary's texts. Frustration consumed him as he stood by and allowed her to zoom away in her car back to Viridian. He had apologized several times, but even he knew it wasn't enough to salvage their relationship. Harper had stolen a piece of Gary's heart (whether he could admit it or not) and he hated himself to see them cease talking on dreadful circumstances. If only she could understand where he was coming from, if only he _himself_ could fathom how their dining experience took a serious turn for the worst...

All he wanted to do was blame Ash.

His grin, his naturally charismatic attitude that made others feel comfortable around him without him realizing he was bringing about this wonderful effect, annoyed Gary from the start. When Harper returned from the store that late evening, he endured her harmless gushing about how sweet of a guy Ash was and how, in a joking manner, he rivaled Gary's good looks. With calmness, Gary tried to remind himself his girlfriend had an innate tendency to see the positive in others, but the way her eyes lit up, how her giggle intensified, and how relaxed she felt when speaking to Ash... It wasn't fair. Misinterpreting his emotions or not, Gary's heart burned with inadequacy and he felt infuriated. Harper was _his_ girlfriend; Ash didn't even have experience in a relationship! He was still on his Pokémon kick, which Gary thought would end with him being an old hermit out the woods, endlessly searching for answers about the mysterious creatures that he was unlikely to catch or see...

Like an unbreakable bad habit, Gary pulled his classic childish antics, only for it to backfire in his face. He had no idea what he was thinking, now seeing the hideous repercussions tumble down upon him. He had received sympathy from his parents over the burger ordeal, though a vexed Annie ordered him to apologize to Ash after hearing about the comments from Michelle. Gary knew it was inevitable, but he detested the fact that the chef at the inn had to rat him out when his mother came by to give Leah a layout of how she'd designed the dining area for the upcoming bash. And to add to the already aggravating punishment, Annie was also so extremely disappointed in her son's behavior that she insisted Sam withhold Gary's lab equipment, and to leave a remnant of an Omanyte fossil he was working on untouched for the next few weeks.

Gary admitted he had royally screwed himself over. Regardless, he believed he deserved an apology from Ash, which he doubted he'd receive anyway. Resentfully, he decided he would make an attempt to appease his parents' wishes, and to hopefully earn Harper's company back before she confirmed their relationship was down the drain. Which entailed explaining_ why_ he had said the hurtful things he did, shaming himself in the back of his mind yet wanting to incriminate Ash for his profound humiliation... Most importantly, though, Gary did not want to lose Harper, did not want this negative side of himself to overshadow the shining qualities he bore. Even if that meant he had to stomach his over-inflated pride and ego and genuinely seek Ash out and make amends.

Nodding, Gary refused to show the anxiety in his eyes. "Yeah," he answered. "I've got somethin' to take care of."

"Well, all right," replied the professor. Sam had a hunch as to what his grandson was up to, but didn't pry, seeing he did not want to be caught in the middle of the teenagers' altercation. He had played referee a number of times between the boys. Plus, Sam had enough worries and conflict on his hands to concern himself with.

Carrying on in a pleasant manner, the professor walked Gary to the door. "Thank you for helping me get that splinter out of Arcanine's paw," he said, gesturing to the pokeball in his grandson's hand. "That sure was a thick, bothersome thorn for him. Nasty little thing indeed!"

So stuck and sharp, poor Arcanine whimpered horribly and intense growls seeped from his mouth as Tracey held him down. This brought about Gary's interference, Prof. Oak believing his master's presence would sooth and ease the dog to trust them just enough to pull the sucker out. In the end, they were all glad to see Arcanine was relieved of the nettlesome pain, and to baby him a little over the injury, Gary decided to take him home and give the dog some one-on-one attention while tending to the healing wound.

"Yeah, it was," agreed Gary, bouncing the sphere in his hand and then snatching it in a tight grip. His eyes focused solely on his fist. "He must have gotten that in his foot from a rotten piece of bark."

"Probably. I know he has a tendency of chasing some of the other Pokémon up the trees," noted Sam, sighing a little at the reminder. "Let me know how the ointment works." Arcanine was a beautiful and spirited specimen of a giant, dog-like creature, though the professor wished he could somehow break the canine's habit of chasing those pesky Mankey that pelted him with pebbles. Or maybe he needed to think of a solution to stop the Mankey's troublesome antics.

Finally reaching the front door of the lab, Gary smiled at his grandpa and gave a short wave. "'Kay, I will. See ya later."

"See you this evening!" Sam replied, waving in return and closing the door as Gary exited.

Eyes stayed centered on the pokeball resting in his hold, Gary was alleviated of his stress in taking one of his most loyal companions home and to help ease his dog's anxiety through rigorous brushing and playful stomach rubs. A smile inched up as he walked down the long stairs, until the cast of a sudden outline stole Gary's train of thought. Shooting his gaze up, he uncovered the silhouette belonged to Brock, someone Gary least expected. What was he doing here in Pallet? Gary hadn't seen Brock for a good couple of years, and didn't recall overhearing Ash gab about his old friend's return. Last time Gary checked, Brock was off in another region, training to be a Pokémon doctor in some specific field.

And why was he heading to the lab alone? Without Ash?

"Hey," Gary greeted flatly, their eyes locked as they stood frozen on different steps. Brock, one step high and Gary, one step lower.

Brock clenched the straps of his backpack, appearing rather surprised that he obtained a semi-friendly hello. "Uh, hey Gary," he replied, the implied astonishment apparent in his voice.

There wasn't much effort after that, Gary tearing his gaze away, minimizing the pokeball, and shoving his hands into his jean pockets as he continued his climb down. Brock's eyes followed the movement of the trainer, observing him for a few seconds before proceeding to his own destination. It shouldn't have been a huge shock that Gary was at his _grandfather's_ lab, but Brock figured the distant acknowledgement was a feat in itself. One could deduce Gary acted poorly in the company of Ash, but being a friend of his, Brock figured he'd be hit with some kind of cold shoulder he didn't warrant.

Not pondering for too long on Gary's plain salutation, Brock bounded up the staircase and, finding the door to be open, wandered into the massive laboratory. He had called Prof. Oak earlier, informing him of his coming over, and Sam was more than eager to have the young man drop by.

"Professor?" the doctor-in-training called, aimlessly strolling in. "It's me, Brock-"

"Ah, Brock! So glad to see you." Entering into the living part of the building was Prof. Oak, inviting the young man in with a coaxing hand to follow. He, however, suddenly stopped in his tracks and spun around. Aging eyes glanced around, his voice lowering as a worried expression took over his face. "Uh, Ash isn't with you, is he?" he asked meekly.

Hurriedly, Brock caught on to the professor's concern. "Oh, no," he waved. "Ash is at home."

A smile of relief sprouted. "Perfect. Would you like something to eat? Tracey makes a mean Eggs Benedict!"

Clearly, Tracey took advantage of the recipe cards Brock had left for him on a separate occasion years ago, after the young Pokémon watcher mentioned he wanted to take a swing at whipping up homemade meals.

Chortling, Brock shook his head. "That's okay, I'm fine."

"How about something to drink then?" proposed Sam.

"Iced tea would be good, if you have any."

"I have plenty." Twirling, Prof. Oak shifted his gaze to the entrance to the kitchen. "Tracey, Brock's here! And I need two iced teas, please!"

"Got it!" Tracey hollered somewhere off in the kitchen. What sounded like rushing water and clattering glasses resonated from Tracey's proximity, making Brock assume he was busy cleaning up the cooking area.

From there, Prof. Oak motioned for Brock to follow, leading them down a hall and to their destination for discussion. "We'll meet you in the research lab!" Sam went on informing for Tracey to overhear. "For our discussion!"

"Okay! I'll be there soon!" he yelled back again in a chipper tone.

It wasn't long before Sam guided Brock to the spacious research center on the upper level. All appeared to be the same as Brock last recalled, and he felt a rapid hominess as the memorable establishment evoked past times. How he, Ash, and Misty would hurry over to the wondrous lab, visit, and catch up until they were sent off on another journey full of anticipation, excitement, and mystery.

Once climbing down the last step, the pair landed on the lower floor of the room. Prof. Oak then gestured for them to lounge on the one couch, colored in a faded orange hue. There was just enough capacity for the two of them, sitting in silence as they waited for Tracey to appear. A burst of curiosity soared in Brock's brain, wondering why Sam had chosen for them to converse in this specific spot. Wouldn't it had made more sense to talk in the living room or perhaps even the study full of books for the professor to reference off if need be? Perhaps the older man wanted to guarantee the most privacy possible, in case a visitor dropped by unannounced.

While waiting, they chatted casually. Sam asking how he was fairing with everything and that he had informed Tracey so all were in the loop lending a helping hand. Now thinking about it, Brock realized how tired he was from the long haul on the boat. He was still shaking off the shock of meeting Ash's father and comprehending the jaw-dropping danger he had been in all these years. And now, Brock himself was playing a part in it all. A part in destroying Team Rocket's dastardly plans.

In a fair amount of time, Tracey arrived, balancing a tray of three teas full of glossy chunks of ice. After handing the drinks over to the professor and Brock, Sam requested he made sure the door was shut, which Tracey assured. Once all were settled, Tracey pulled up a chair, the one he tended to use when he and Prof. Oak were working. He then sat across from the two men opposite of him.

"Now," Sam finally started, clearing his throat. "Jayce tells me you have the feather?"

Brock nodded after taking a slurp. "Uh, yeah. I've got it right here." Setting his beverage down on the floor, he grabbed his backpack, and with careful fingers unzipped a large pocket inside.

"Excellent. He also informed me he'd like me to be in possession of it, seeing he didn't want you in any more danger," Prof. Oak carried on.

"I appreciate that," the trainer laughed dryly.

"Plus, I can finally study it closely!" the professor sweat-dropped in return, though his mild chuckles dissipated as Brock at last pulled out the stunning specimen.

All eyes fell upon the sparkling feather, its delicate state resting in the open palm of Brock. No one could look away. There it was. They had it. As far as the trio knew, their cluster of allies were the only ones in present time who were in possession of a feather from one of the most mystical and baffling legendaries to date. Hardly any humans could claim they were witnesses to Ho-Oh's brilliant existence, much less hold one of the very quills from the god-like creature.

"Arceus almighty," breathed Sam, eyes and focus completely stolen by the rare find. He had seen the feather,_ touched_ the feather on plenty of occasions. And yet, every instance Jay revealed it before his very eyes the professor was always left flabbergasted and stupefied. All the colors of the rainbow mingling together in one breathtaking shimmer... The sight was indescribable.

"Magnificent, isn't it?" commented Brock, smiling a little at the sight of their awe.

"It's amazing!" exclaimed Tracey, leaning in. When he heard Prof. Oak mention that Jay had _the_ feather of Ho-Oh, he thought he'd faint just by the lightness and dizziness swirling in his head. As a Pokémon watcher and an admirer of the striking creatures, this day marked a special one for Tracey. To be one of the very few to actually see such an elegant feather in perfect condition- as if it had fallen from Ho-Oh's wing just that day...

"Both indeed," soon agreed the professor. An offering hand extended its length to Sam, and so he graciously took the feather from Brock's hold. The tips teased his open hand, and his fingers ran across the texture, showcasing each individual shade of vibrant color. "It's been years since I've seen this again," he remarked. "But you know, it doesn't glimmer as much as one would expect."

Brock's gaze shifted. "I know. When I held it on the ride over, it didn't seem to shimmer as much as when Mr. Ketchum had it."

"This could mean something..." What Prof. Oak muttered was intriguing, and both Brock and Tracey were curious as to what the older man was thinking. His fixated stare, his quiet demeanor was, however, gone, as a pair of serious eyes flashed their way back up. "When was the last time you spoke to Jayce and the others?"

"This morning," replied Brock. "Misty informed me that she was all alone at the Pokémon Center last night."

Shock consumed Sam's facial expression. "_What_? Why on earth was that the case?"

The details were the least bit enjoyable to repeat, and Brock himself found no merriment in receiving Misty's distressed and terrified call. And he also saw no pleasure in having to reiterate the events of the previous night to a clearly perplexed and slightly vexed Prof. Oak. Clearing his throat, Brock proceeded. "Because Mr. Ketchum, well- he um..." He bit his lip, struggling with his words while eyes intensely looked for him to spit it out. He swallowed. "He got kinda...drunk. You know, because of the whole- anniversary ordeal," the trainer hurriedly elucidated. "But Drake took care of it! He took him to a motel and called Misty to let her know. She told me he was coming to pick her up, and then they'd be on their way to Cerulean."

"Are you serious?" gaped Tracey. He didn't know Mr. Ketchum personally. Heck, he didn't even know the guy on as intimate a level as Misty and Brock did. But what the artist _did_ observe from the mysterious Jayce Ketchum was not that of irresponsible nature!

An unreadable expression claimed Sam's face, his chin resting in his hand as he stared thoughtfully. He had feared this would happen.

"A wounded heart is bound to do anything to cope," opined the professor. "I suppose this shouldn't be such a big surprise but...Jayce must be severely hurting," he eventually proclaimed. "All the more reason for us to move and think fast. We need to find the appropriate opportunity for you and me to inform Delia and Ash of Jayce's whereabouts. If they are just heading to Cerulean then we cannot tell them yet. Jayce and the others must be safe before we tell anyone else."

"Then when should we tell them?" chimed in Tracey. After living with Prof. Oak for a fair amount of years, the Pokémon watcher could easily read his body language and tone. Obviously, Brock's unpredictable news brought upon deep concern regarding Jay's state, which left all unsure of what to think.

"When they get to the Indigo Plateau," Prof. Oak answered. "I know it's quite a ways away, but I'd rather be safe than in a hurry to jump the gun."

So the original plan was still intact. There were no complaints coming from Brock, considering he was one of the two who had to be the bearer of bad news. Horrible, devastating, and mind-boggling news he'd have to share with one of his closest friends and mother... He still felt hesitant in approaching the topic, but the direness of Mr. Ketchum's whereabouts and the Ketchum family's overall safety was vital. Brock just wished there was a simpler solution to disclose a complicated truth that would, without doubt, be responded to with bafflement and dicey repercussions...

None in which Brock was ready to take on.

Back outside the lab still stood Gary, though he was now in a flustered state, feeling foolish over his minor absentmindedness. In between chatting with his grandfather and retrieving Arcanine's pokeball, the trainer had forgotten to grab the ointment Sam had pulled out of the Pokémon medicine cabinet and laid on the coffee table for him to take home. He confirmed such by realizing the ointment wasn't in his other hand. How could he be so forgetful? The plan of "apologizing" to Ash and hopefully winning Harper back into his arms clouded his attention. And Gary was eager to accomplish such...but rubbing on his dog's mandatory method of healing was just as important as clearing the air with his girlfriend.

Swifts heels turned around and dashed up the winding staircase once again, and then with a swing of the door Gary entered back into the lab. Silence. There was no one in sight. A frown morphed as Gary wandered inside, closing the door behind him.

"Grandpa?" he called out, glancing about. "Hey, I forgot the ointment." No response. "Grandpa? Wonder where everyone is..."

He had hardly left ten minutes ago, and now the entrance to his grandpa's home was abandoned? He checked the kitchen first, but found no sign of Prof. Oak, Tracey, or even Brock. Brock...why was he there, anyway? His pondering thoughts speedily trailed away as they came, stolen by the murmuring of voices from up above. Gary's eyes lingered upward, his head rising as brows narrowed.

They were in the research corridors.

At first, the question of _why_ fluttered into his head, but was cut short as he saw he hadn't even touched the ointment on the coffee table. Which ironically was not the correct form of treatment, and was instead a cream for a Cloyster's shell, to strengthen its form of protection. Sighing after realizing the detriment this water-type cream could have caused Arcanine, Gary clasped the bottle in his hand. He didn't have time for this. Speaking to Ash was an unsavory experience Gary _wanted_ to get out of the way, and from there, attend to his rightfully upset girlfriend. If she'd even answer his calls or text at this rate...

Adamant to skedaddle out of the laboratory, Gary traveled up the staircase and to the room in which he heard his grandfather's voice echo. All he needed was to politely notify Prof. Oak of the accidental remedy and hopefully not take up too much of the wise man's time, or Gary's for that matter. Bouncing off the last step to the top floor, his hand gripped the doorknob like any other, ready to burst it open with a gust of air hitting his face from the swing. But as he twisted the knob and pulled it back, the sound of Brock's oddly perturbed voice sent a strange signal to Gary's brain.

Retracting the opening just slightly, Gary peeked in.

"So what do we do until then?"

"I propose we tell Ash and Delia after the celebration at the inn," Gary overheard his grandpa declare, his voice bouncing off the large walls. "There will be no distractions, and if all goes accordingly, I can try to see if Jayce can be at the Indigo League by then."

_Jayce?_ As in, Ash's _estranged_ father? The beating of the trainer's heart rose considerably, his head feeling hazy as he tried to process the words he heard fall from his grandfather's mouth. Frozen, Gary pondered if he had gathered the wrong assumption; however, Prof. Oak's voice was so clear and distinct there was no logical cause to become skeptical.

All the more intrigued, Gary eavesdropped with a sharper ear, now picking up on another familiar voice.

"But do you think he and the others can get there fast enough it just a couple of weeks, professor? They're still in Saffron, and the league is a long ways away."

A faint gasp leaped from an agape mouth. _Tracey's in on this, too? Grandpa... What the hell is going on?_

"They might have to," continued the professor, unaware of the spy creeping above the balcony. "We can't keep stalling this. If Jayce wants Ash and Delia to be safe and for his efforts in stopping Team Rocket to come with a reward...then we have no choice. It's the only way to get Jayce back home. To tell his family the truth after all these years. I myself have been a little hesitant about this plan. But now... I can see there is no other option."

_After all these years... No other option?_ Tremulous fingers lunged for the door, hastily pulling it shut before someone discovered his unwanted presence. What felt like an explosion of shock soared throughout Gary's body, his stance dwindling as he slid down onto the floor. His frame leaned against the wooden structure, running a hand through his spiky brunette locks. Was this a dream? Had he really uncovered the reasoning behind Jay's disappearance? And why and how in God's name was Prof. Oak involved? Why were Ash's_ friends_ involved? Was this the explanation behind Brock's appearance? Had his grandfather flat-out lied to _everyone?_ Under Jay's orders? Because of Team Rocket? And for how long? Every ounce of this oozing secret dripped befuddling and jaw-dropping reveals, Gary's mind rapidly attempting to piece it all together.

Then, it all collided within his thudding chest.

A breath hitching in the back of his throat, he put two and two together. Jay's abrupt disappearance made sense and yet at the same time it didn't... He had been on the run. But from what exactly? What kind of trouble had he stirred between him and the infamous Team Rocket? Whatever the case may be, they were questions that Gary wasn't supposed to ask and certainly wasn't supposed to have the answers for. Wonky feet eventually rose, and in a quickened pace Gary raced down the stairs, disappearing without a trace.

For Prof. Oak's sake, security was clearly lacking. Tracey may have successfully latched the door shut. But unfortunately, he didn't think to double-check the lock.

* * *

**Author's Note:** SO MUCH DRAMA. ;D Hope you guys enjoyed this new installment and thanks to all who left amazing reviews the last time! I start classes again in late September so we'll see how many chapters I can upload for you guys until then. Currently chapters fifteen and sixteen are with my beta reader, and I'm now on a roll with seventeen. :) Even with school coming soon, I was considering writing a holiday short story if time allows me too. I would have to close the current poll, and upload a new one asking you guys if you'd like to read an autumn themed story vs. a winter one. If I decide to, I'll have the details mentioned so you can see which one might appeal to you more!

Thanks again for taking the time to read and reviews are always appreciated. :D


	15. Nothing is Innocent Now

**Author's Note: **Hello my readers! :) Thank you to all who reviewed/read the last chapter. It's much appreciate!

Thank you to Guest: Heather who pointed out that minor issue in the final chapter of _Junk of the Heart_. I went back and fixed it, so it's all consistent now! :) I think that just shows how tired I am- I apologize for overlooking that! That will _not_ happen again under my watch. I'm hitting myself in the head for that little detail.

Which is why I wanted to inform you all that I will be slowing up on my, dare I say, "writing schedule". I am emotionally and mentally burnout. Like no joke. I have had one crazy summer, not all bad of course, but I feel too mentally exhausted to churn out chapters at a speedy and regular rate as I have been or would like to. I took a week off to recoup and center myself again, and now I'm working away slowly. As of now, chapters 16 and 17 are with my beta reader.

I've also got college coming up in less than two weeks, so I don't want to exhaust myself to the point we're I'm digging my heels in about school work. Plus it's only right to give you guys a new chapter with a stamp of approval by me and my beta reader that we feel comfortable with publishing. I don't want to give you guys something of lower quality considering there's so much thought and consideration going into this story alone. So just for the time being, I'll not be so frequently tied to the keyboard... if I can help myself. ;p Anyway, I hope that's okay! ^^; If it brings any reassurance, there's **NO WAY** I am going to abandon this fic. I've made a commitment to it unless something serious pops up in my life to which I can't finish it. But as of now, I plan to complete it one way or another. It might just take longer than I anticipated.

I would also like to thank Guest: Marie for not only leaving an amazing review for this story, but for _Junk of the Hear_t as well. Wow. You totally lifted my spirits with writing! :) You're too sweet and I sincerely appreciate your kind words and am so thrilled you have enjoyed my work so far.

Thank you to those who showed interest in my pokeshipping oneshot. :) I would like to finish it and post it, so it's on my to-do list. But again, I'm taking things slow, so I can't say for certain when I'll post it.

Now please enjoy this new and unintentionally long chapter!

**DISLCAIMER: **_Pokémon_ belongs to Satoshi Tajiri. My oc's belong to me.

* * *

**Sunlight's Return**

**Chapter 15**

_"Nothing is Innocent Now"_

Unbeknownst of Drake's determined hunting, Cassidy and Butch journeyed on without a care in the world.

Plans were made to speed off onto the highway, heading straight for Lavender Town and from there to one of Team Rocket's many secret hideouts where Jay would be transported by helicopter to an awaiting Giovanni back at Headquarters. It was a scheme agreed on between the two agents, after Cassidy had convinced her partner that "surprising" Giovanni would be a better tactic than reporting some mundane news of Ketchum's whereabouts. Though they were instructed to do such, she ignored the commands and found snatching Jay at a vulnerable state imperative, rather than waiting for orders that would arrive too late. It was as if they were one step ahead of Giovanni, easing their employer's stresses, _doing_ his job without him having to brief them on the next course of action.

There was no denying her explicit giddiness in their triumph, basking in her feelings on the success through cocky facial expressions and a confident grin.

"Hehe, _finally,_" Cassidy cackled, exuberant happiness pouring from her throat. "We got him! Only _we_ could have pulled this one off," she gloated, checking out her evenly distributed makeup in the rear-view mirror. "I can't wait to see the look on the boss's face when he finds out we have him. How we managed to capture him. All it took was putting the guy to bed! It was like taking candy from a baby! And Brimble couldn't even catch him with something as simple as that? Ha!" she continued to mock. "He should have figured that one out a long time ago. But I suppose it's for the best we did. Now that _we_ get the reward from the boss!"

All Butch could concur without a second thought. While he was hesitant at first in disobeying Giovanni, it was a golden opportunity to snatch Ketchum when they did. He was fighting the onset of his hangover of headaches and urges to puke, leaving Ketchum susceptible to capture with his weak reflexes. Brimble had mentioned back at their first meeting that their target was a man not only with highly trained Pokémon, but a decent fighter who both Cassidy and Butch were intimated of engaging in physical conflict with. Neither one was gung-ho about throwing a punch, not after the story in which Brimble expressed being kneed in the stomach and having his arms twisted and tied behind his back. And to make matters worse, he had taken him down in such an effortless and fluent stream of actions.

Plus the one person who had been by Ketchum's side the entire night had left him all alone that morning. After bailing their squad of recruited grunts out of the slammer, and stalking Ketchum from afar, Cassidy and Butch were able to positively identify the two other people joining the man on his quest across Kanto. They were utterly stupefied, to say the least, when they discovered the famous Orange Crew leader and the up-and-coming Cerulean gym leader were explicitly fighting along Ketchum's side. The pair, at first glimpse, was an anomalous choice, one from a distant island and one from a city in Kanto. And the agents still could not pinpoint how they knew each other...other than that Misty was a friend of that notorious brat spawned by Ketchum, and that the grunts overheard Drake exchange intimate words with Jay. As if they were somehow close, possibly family, maybe even related by blood...

Frankly, from what they were able to discover, Cassidy and Butch felt like celebrating their efforts for a mission that had taken over ten years to complete. And they were hardly a part of the scheme for a single month.

"You can say that again," agreed Butch, concentrating on the signaling lights and turns. "Should we call the boss and tell him now?"

"Why not?" his partner replied, almost sounding carefree. "He's been pining this long for success. Why keep him waiting any longer?"

"You got it." With steadiness, Butch shifted his gaze between the road and his business cellphone, pulling the device from his pant pocket then punching the numbers in. One hand was kept on the steering wheel, the other balancing the small phone that rang in his ear until a female voice answered. It was their boss's receptionist. "Giovanni, please," Butch requested. Then, his smiled drooped. "He's out? For how long? I see... Well, when he gets back, inform him there's been an update on _Project H_. Yes, thank you."

With the phone conversation not lasting long, Cassidy threw a wondering eye at her teammate, only for him to calmly ease her silent pondering. "He's not in the office," Butch explained, hanging up and shoving his cellphone back in his pocket. Both hands griped the wheel again. "They wouldn't tell me why other than he had an important matter to care of. But I left a message."

"That's fine," the female agent replied, leaning back in her seat. "He'll know soon enough when he sees our helicopter flying over Headquarters. Oh, I just can't get over that we caught Ketchum!" she added in another exuberant cheer of devilish achievement. "Serves him right after flinging us into that _disgusting_ muddy swamp and for planting that tracking device on _another_ car.

"Just look at him Butch," she went on, her head gleaming over her shoulder with an arrogant raise of her brows. "He's sound asleep in that ridiculous get-up, not even knowing what hit him. When he wakes up, I'm going to make him cry so bad he'll be begging for the boss!"

Butch croaked out a weak laugh at her last remark, sweat-dropping as he mumbled, "Uh, I don't know about that..." How adamant and downright teed-off Giovanni was toward their captive, Butch was positive Ketchum would rather face them any day than their spiteful and calculating boss.

His thoughts on the matter, however, didn't last long as a sudden gurgle in his stomach erupted with a faint ache. He sweat-dropped again, bearing a sheepish grin as he glanced to Cassidy. "Hey, ya mind if I get somethin' to eat? My stomach's killin' me!" he proclaimed, still a tad bitter in that driving all over creation for that dislocated tracking device, they were unable to get a decent meal.

Thankful to Butch's starving gut, she didn't protest. "Sure, sure. Let's celebrate a little," she said with a spunky grin. "It's not like we have anyone following us, anyway."

If only that were true.

Nearly two streets away sped by a searching Drake and Misty, looking about in all directions for any sign of the car that had abducted Jay. As the tracking commenced, neither trainer had the time to process why Team Rocket had slipped Jay into a Nidoking costume, other than to disguise his true identity. Carrying around a motionless body might send up some red flags to bystanders- if what they did do instead hadn't already. Placing him in such a thick getup made the two worry with the rising heat, hoping the cruel agents had enough sense to turn _on_ the air-conditioning before the unconscious man suffocated. That would be a nonsensical move on their part.

"I don't see them anywhere," cried Misty, eyes surveying the area in rushed glances. "Where could they have gone? We know they turned to the left..." she tried to rationalize, but her words trailed in a worried murmur.

"They must be taking the exit to either Cerulean or Lavender Town," Drake hypothesized. "Did you catch the license plate number?"

"Only like the first three digits," she answered depressingly.

That was already discouraging. Getting mixed up in another wild, out of control car chase was something Drake did not want to relive. He didn't want to feel like a stunt-double in a movie; only in films there was a cue to stop, take breaks, and cut scenes. This was real life, and he found no thrill in driving dangerously down the road to retrieve his brother as well as preventing any more damage with innocent civilians. But what other choice did he have? Neither he nor Misty saw a full peek at the license plate and with so many cars passing by in the densely populated roads, the job of discerning one car from another was a tedious and time-consuming task.

They couldn't wait that long. Not when a life was at stake.

Running a hand briefly through his dark tresses, Drake paused and soon sighed. "If we don't find Jay in the next few minutes, I'm calling the police," he declared definitely. "I am_ not_ going to let them get away with him-"

"Wait!- Is that _them?_"

With a raising pulse and wide eyes, Drake stepped on the soon to be screeching brakes, his head darting around as the car stopped in a rigid motion. "Where?!" he hollered, alarmed by Misty's possible sighting.

"In the drive-thru of that restaurant!" announced the redhead, eyes unable to tear away from the scene as she pointed through her window.

_The drive-thru?_ Such a strange place to locate the sneaky grunts, yet right before the islander's very eyes,_ directly_ across the street, was the car that had swiftly stolen his brother.

Gob-smacked, Drake's eyebrows narrowed. "You have got to be joking!" he gawked, and then he looked to Misty in disbelief. "They stopped for _breakfast_?"

* * *

"Welcome to Drowzee's Dream Burgers. Feel free to state your order whenever you're ready."

At this point, the criminals had pulled up to the speaker stationed outside the establishment, preparing to order their big "victory meal" of the day. Deep-fried hash-brown patties; French toast slices; fruit and yogurt parfaits; egg, cheese, and sausage biscuits... It was all making Butch's stomach rumble and his mouth water. In no time at all he settled on his hopefully delicious breakfast.

Tearing his focus away from the crackled voice through the microphone, Butch glanced to his partner. "Anything you want, Cassidy?" he asked.

"Just get me an Iced Mocha Dream," she answered, slipping on her sunglasses. She then leaned back in her seat, flipping a long strand of her golden locks in the air. "I'm trying to watch my waist line."

Proceeding with a nod, Butch turned back to the speaker and placed the order. "I need one Iced Mocha Dream please, and a Spellbound Number Three Combo with an Iced Caramel Haze."

They waited for only a few seconds before the meal was relayed to them. "All right, I've got one Iced Mocha Dream, and a Spellbound Number Three Combo with an Iced Caramel Haze. Is that correct?" the voice over the intercom double-checked.

_Yes_ was about to flow out of Butch's mouth until his partner interrupted him with a pushy tap on the shoulder. He glanced to her briefly, witnessing her undoing her seat belt. "And extra napkins," Cassidy added in a loud harsh whisper. "I don't need you making a mess in the car. You know it's a rental." She was in the midst of covering Jay up with a light blanket, to prevent anyone from seeing and oddly inquiring about the Nidoking costume laying down flat in the backseat.

Butch stiffened at her snide comment, peering at her with a sharp eye before including the "extra napkins" needed for his evidently messy self. Though he said nothing of course until at least the order was put through, satisfying his growing temper with an intelligible mumble. After all, Cassidy was the one _carrying_ all the loot Giovanni supplied them with, and he wasn't about to tick her off when his stomach was gurgling for nutrition.

Pursing his lips at the dig Cassidy had thrown at him, the male grunt finished the order. "Extra napkins please, and yes, that'll be everything."

"Okay, your total is thirteen eighty-two at the second window."

"Thanks."

Moving forward, Butch traveled down to the second window, while the flashing of the price provided on the screen above the intercom led Cassidy to pulling out crisp bills from her wallet. A swift hand snatched the money out of her grasp, causing Cassidy's eyebrows to rise as Butch gave her a distinct frown.

"So what did you mean by _me_ making a mess?" he asked outwardly.

And so, with the agents' petty bickering transpiring, the humming engine of a car lurked with adamant and cautious eyes. Misty and Drake closely watched Team Rocket's car pull up to the second window, keeping a low profile as they hunkered near a couple of parked cars along the street. Traffic wasn't too busy on their side, providing them with an ideal chance to slow down and analyze their next move. Making too big of a ruckus wasn't their intent. However, with the result of the last car chase, both trainers found saving Jay stealthily inevitable. But then again...

Assessing the situation carefully, a spark of hope glistened in Drake's blue eyes. "This could be a good thing," he commented quietly, still focused on the vehicle casually waiting in line for their morning meal.

"What do you mean?" Misty asked puzzled.

"Them in the drive-thru," he clarified. "I'll pull in front of the exit and stop them."

"But what if they resist?" she questioned with uncertainty. "Because you know they will."

A sigh rang. "Then regrettably, I will have to make a scene. Hold on."

Silently collecting himself, the islander shifted back into drive, making his way over to the opposite side of the restaurant to block Team Rocket's exit. Tension rising from within caused Misty to clutch her seat, anxiously hoping that their chance to grab Jay would be a success. Like Drake, she didn't want to endure another heart-pounding race that took a fair amount of time for their hearts to return to a normal rate once all was said and done. So she held her breath, desperately wanting for it all to be over...

At the time, all seemed to be going according to plan for the trainers fortunately, Cassidy and Butch ignorantly unaware of the sneak attack to come as they paid for their food and passed the second drive-thru window. After handing the container holding the cold caffeinated drinks over to his partner, Butch placed the full bag down on his lap while aimlessly steering.

"Finally!" he exclaimed, a hand already diving into the contents of the takeout bag. "I'm famished!"

Against Cassidy's teal-tinted sunglasses, she caught a glimmer of a vehicle pulling into the parking lot. Its natural color was distorted, though she was positive it bore a dark shade, and the two people strapped in the front looked eerily familiar... Instantly, a gasp hitched in the back of Cassidy's throat.

"Butch, turn out of the parking lot!" she shouted, shaking his arm.

His hand stopped rummaging in the bag, a clueless expression beaming at her. "What?-"

"TURN!"

The hurried wagging of Cassidy's index finger and her dramatic yell for him to comply, Butch at last threw his gaze up. His eyes locked with a midnight-colored car heading straight for them, a heavy lump sitting uncomfortably in his throat. He instantly recognized the driver and winced, letting the greasy bag tip with clenched shock teeth. "Oh, jeez!"

In a rushed pivot, the tires made a deafening screech, swerving awkwardly as they grazed their own car against the other, and raced past Misty and Drake without signaling their turn. By the unexpected change in direction, the agents jumped in their seats, enduring the bumpy ride with aggravation and fast beating hearts. Collecting her wits, Cassidy looked over her shoulder and discovered Drake had swiftly exited the parking lot and was now following directly behind them.

"Arrgh! Just our luck!" she griped, slamming her clenched fist. "That Orange Crew brute and the girl saw us! Faster, faster, Butch!"

"All right, all right!" he hastily obeyed. Butch could only speed so fast with so many cars in the area. He was already surpassing the obvious speed limit and they weren't even close to their getaway highway yet. He'd have to recalculate his route now, and clam his mind not only because of the trainers pursuing them but also if he was going to survive Cassidy's constant groaning.

"How the hell did they see us?" Butch eventually questioned, amazed the trainers tracked them as fast as they did. "I thought the coast was clear!"

"Evidently not!" Cassidy contradicted in another exasperated yell. "They probably saw us when they were pulling in to pick Ketchum up. Great, just great! Just when we thought we could escape without them trailing after us- Dammit!"

A bump in the road tipped more than just Butch's spilled bag of breakfast. Sticky hands were raised in midair, violet eyes glaring in repulse at the pooling of the tan colored and cold liquid settled in her lap. Flying her gaze up at Butch, Cassidy scoffed. "Uggh! Now I've got coffee all over me! Nice going, Mitch!"

"The name is Butch!" he barked, taking his anger out on the squeezed steering wheel. "God, how many times do I have to say it?! And don't blame me for your coffee spill! You wanted me to go faster!" he reminded passionately.

And how was it his fault the cement in the road was uneven? And she wasn't the only one who had edible contents soiling her clothes! In the back of his mind, Butch was expecting such chaos to derive from Ketchum's recruits, considering how many times other trainers had stopped them in their evil pursuits... But in this instance, giving up wasn't an option.

Not with Giovanni to surprise.

The reflection of the Nidoking in the rear-view mirror evoked Butch with such thoughts, beginning to work on a speedy escape route. Handing an irritable Cassidy a napkin out of the capsized bag, Butch spun the steering wheel and took a different detour. A less busy street. He sped up the acceleration of their vehicle with a gradual start, scurrying down alleyways then back to the main road. This unforeseeable traveling down various streets threw Drake for a loop, cars cutting in front of the trainers along their journey, making it difficult for them to catch up with the criminals once more.

After not finding a sleek midnight car riding their bumper for at least a couple of turns, peace soared through Cassidy once again. "We lost those suckers," snickered the female agent, leaning back in her seat as she let out a heavy sigh of relief. "Nice going, Butch."

"Good," sighed Butch. At last _he_ could relax too. Maybe not to indulge in his messy and jumbled breakfast, but perhaps in a different way. "Would ya mind crankin' up the tunes?" he asked, pleased to see Cassidy comply without protest, going through each station until an excitable wave of her teammate's hand came close to her face. "Oh, go back! I _love_ this song!" he couldn't resist announcing.

Apparently, Misty and her sisters weren't the only fans of this hit pop song.

Unlike Team Rocket, however, Misty found no desire in turning on the radio. Both she and Drake panicked between choked hollers at each other as they raced down street after street, finding no sign of the criminals anywhere. Drake cursed outwardly when he realized after driving through the same roads that they must have taken those small dark alleyways to confuse the trainers into taking different turns. Reading into his act of frustration, deep concern grew hurriedly within Misty, her anxiety rising as each side street gave them no identical match-up of the vehicle, or every time they were forced to stop by a taunting red light.

Releasing her own groan of discontent, Misty sucked in a shaky breath. "I can't believe we lost them!" she cried, baffled eyes desperately looking to a flustered Drake for an answer. "How are we going to catch them now? W-why didn't Mr. Ketchum fight back?-"

"I don't know," he cut her off with assertive calmness. "They must have knocked him out with something." Otherwise, Drake was certain Jay would have fought back regardless if he had a hangover. He had been told of the unimaginable scuffles he had gotten into, and how physical brutality had saved his hide on several occasions. Strength was evidently not on Jay's side nor was his usually quick-witted mind this time. Team Rocket _must_ have restrained him to the point where jumping out of the vehicle wasn't an option- which wouldn't surprise Drake at all if his brother dared to try...

With a deep inhale and cloudy eyes, Drake glanced to a rightfully scared Misty. He knew his words couldn't bring much comfort, seeing she was just as worried about his brother as he was. But what else could he say? "We're going to catch 'em," Drake said on behalf of both of their worries. "I_ promise_ I'm not going to let them get away with this. Not when we've come this far."

"But how?" Misty pressed. "We have no idea where they are."

True. No clear indicators were given like a helpful trail of breadcrumbs for them to follow. All they had was intuition, which was better than nothing...

"Like I said before, they _have_ to be going to the exit," Drake replied, certainty in his voice. "And if they are...we'll hopefully spot them. Just keep a close eye out for them and hang on tight."

A quiet prayer was silently made by Drake soon after, the wheels of the car venturing towards the highway in search for the vehicle they longed to locate. And that's exactly where it was heading. Traveling closer and closer to the desired highway, Butch was on a roll belting out one song after another on the same station. Off-key, unfortunately, to Cassidy's ears he was as he continued to engross himself in frivolous lyrics and painful high notes. Repeated eye rolls were made by the golden-haired agent, wondering to herself if Butch's ear-bleeding voice was enough to wake their captor in the back. At that given moment, Cassidy would have preferred to be unconscious than listen to Hutch sing- she dryly chortled a little to herself. Not only had her partner's parents given him a rather _strange_ name but they also didn't bless him with the lungs of an angel.

Her pondering of when Butch would become winded by his obnoxious singing eventually came to a halt, pupils dilating and leaning in for a clearer look in her side mirror. "What the-?"

The shade of midnight, the shape of the car, the fact that it was beginning to honk incessantly and pull in front of others causing a ruckus- Drake and Misty had found them, the head of the Nidoking costume sticking up high enough in the backseat for them to catch a fuzzy glimpse. Their excitement bounced off the structure of the car in cheers, unwavering in their methods to pass by cars and reach Team Rocket's. Cassidy's face went white. No. No this couldn't be happening. Not when they were so close to the highway!

Startled by the turn of events, Cassidy called to her teammate. "Hutch?"

But it was useless. He was too wrapped up in his "jam" to take notice, yelling out one more agonizing set of lyrics only for Cassidy to snap ferociously.

"HUTCH!" she screamed, his mouth hanging open with lyrics halfway spoken. "Turn off that infernal music!"

"Why? I thought you were enjoyin' yourself?" he said in puzzled annoyance, turning down the volume. "And will you quite calling me that?! Is Hutch even a real name to call someone?"

"I was not!" Cassidy bellowed, cheeks flushed. She would never splurge in such superficial tunes...unless no one was watching. Collecting herself, the agent dismissed that part of the conversation. "And that's beside the point. We've got Ketchum's recruits catching up to us! And how the hell should I know if Hutch is a real name or not? I'm not your parents!"

"Just to make this clear, they_ didn't_ name me that!-"

"There's no time for clarification! Just speed it up! If you want to be able to celebrate again!"

"Okay, okay!"

Speed was exhilarated exceedingly, at last touching the busy long road they sought to be on. Zooming off onto the highway for Lavender Town, Cassidy and Butch heedlessly merged in front of multiple vehicles, all honking at their rude and abrupt cutting. Though both agents could care less about the inconvenience they caused, solely determined to create as much distance as they could from the relentless trainers. In the back, Jay's unconscious body rolled and bounced off the seat in jerky movements, silently enduring all the unpredictable hits along the road. None of which were doing any favors for the Team Rocket grunts. Ignition of anger flared in Cassidy's eyes again, powerless and outrageously baffled that those trainers refused to give up. They swerved in front of cars, surpassed the speed limit recklessly, and now tailed others to finally get behind the grunt's form of transportation in mere minutes of honking and racing chaos.

With a tug of her restricting seatbelt, Cassidy reached down and growled. "If speeding won't work, then I will take care of them myself!"

Butch's eyes dashed back and forth in a rigid motion, watching her fumble through a secured black case and soon violently tear it open. His eyes then grew huge, his ears picking up the sound of the distinct locking sound that was made in Cassidy's hand, and soon cradled with loaded intentions.

"What are you doing?" questioned Butch with paranoia. He heard the undoing of her seatbelt and then the rolling down of a window. He trembled with weary anticipation as her head stuck out the window. "Cass? Cassidy?-"

"Don't get in the way!" she roared.

Golden locks blew wildly in the wind, Cassidy's body halfway hanging out of the window as she steadied her gaze and pointed directly at the vehicle behind her. She wasn't going to miss, she swore. Not this time. Narrowing in on her target, Cassidy squeezed on the trigger without a second thought.

Muscles tightened, heart profusely pounding, rumbling thoughts flashing before his eyes, the launching of a distinguishable black object hurling their way propelled Drake into a defensive move.

"GET DOWN!"

Glass cracked unexpectedly at a blood-chilling rate, screams leaping from Misty's throat as repeated hits crashed against the glass of the car. Just as fast as the first few shots had been fired, Drake forcefully pulled Misty down sideways in her seat, carefully steering the vehicle as he, too, tried to avoid suffering a possible wound. To say no one anticipated bullets being aimed at the car summed up their reaction perfectly, both unaware Team Rocket was about to endanger their lives so carelessly along a fast-paced highway with _other_ cars around. They meant serious business, which apparently entailed taking anyone out if need be.

A firm hand still rested itself against Misty's shoulders, pinning her down as their car violently weaved from right to left. Drake couldn't keep this up for long, not when Jay's car was suffering serious damages, not when shards of glass were falling on top of the dashboard. He could feel himself lose control of the front wheels, quickly presuming Cassidy had blown a hole in one or both of the fully pumped tires. He cursed silently at this, his open palm slamming against the steering wheel in sheer wrath. Team Rocket was assailing by any means necessary without an ounce of guilt inflicting their inner consciences. For the first time, relief flowed inside the islander, spotting Cassidy merge back into the vehicle, either reloading her gun or satisfied with the hits she had made. Either way, Drake wasn't going to wait around to lose complete air in the tires or possibly be shot straight in the forehead.

Thinking fast, his eyes dashed back and forth and soon his hand eased-up on the severely tense girl he was trying to protect. "Misty, I need you reach for the glove compartment," he ordered. "Hurry!"

She raised her head up, bangs dangling in her face as she tried to get a clear picture of her surroundings. Whips of blustering wind blew Misty's loose ponytail crazily thanks to the holes in the glass, arching up slowly in quaky movements as she reached for the glove compartment. She had no idea why this order was requested of her, nor foresaw the startling item that he wished for her to grab. Snapping the lock open, Misty's eyes grew huge, uncovering a loaded handgun she reckoned Drake was seeking, yet couldn't imagine touching it nor believing Jay or Drake had one in their possession.

An unsteady breath was sucked in, her frightened eyes fixating on the glove compartment then to Drake. "Th-there's uh-"

"Grab it!" he yelled, feeling the pressure of the tires' affliction from a verge of inadequate air. He didn't mean to place her in such an awkward position, but time wasn't on their side for him to explain.

Careful fingers lunged forward and grappled the gun in an awkward hold. She didn't know where to place her hand on it, not wanting to set off the gun in any accidental manner. A heavy breath of comfort was released as soon as Drake took the weapon out of Misty's grasp; however, the redhead was unable to soak in the few seconds of comfort for Drake was already on to the next step in his rash mission. Settling the gun in his right hand, he removed both hands off the wheel and rolled down his window before throwing another demanding but necessary command at the petrified girl.

"Now take the wheel!" he said, his body already in motion.

"What?!" she screeched, taken aback.

Arguing about the orders seemed fruitless, for Misty instantly clasped the steering wheel in one stretch over. She couldn't see the road, preventing her from knowing to turn or merge if need be. Drake's foot was still pressed on the gas, his body leaning out the window similar to Cassidy, practically repeating the same act. Though instead of trying to physically injure the grunts, he blasted recurrent shots at the front and back tires that lined up with his side, hoping to take out enough air for the criminals' vehicle to become immobilized. And he did so with such natural concentration and assertiveness, a side Misty had only seen of Drake in battle. As hazardous and explosive Pokémon battles could be, being caught in the middle of a gun fight seemed all the more worse and extremely terrifying to be witness to! There was no denying that while Drake tended to have a good head upon his sturdy shoulders, he, like his brother, wasn't afraid of jumping into combat for the greater good.

So by an unforeseen grace, Cassidy and Butch felt the sudden slowing of their accelerating car. The uneven steering and jolting of the vehicle was noticeably alarming, Butch casting a glance in his rear-view mirror, discovering Drake sliding back into the driver's seat with gun in tow.

Butch growled underneath his breath. "Dammit! He got- AAAHHH!"

Losing complete control of the car's wheels, Butch diverged out of traffic and plunged himself and his partner into the unknown territory off the highway. Snapping of tree branches and the destruction of bushes ensued as the car unsteadily rammed itself into the wild foliage, travelling deeper and deeper into the tree line. With the unexpected change in course, Drake had no other option but to continue chasing the criminals in pursuit, warning Misty of the bumpy ride before swiveling out of the road and follow the same path without hesitation.

The multiple holes in Butch and Cassidy's tires weakened the foundation of the once solid wheels, their hurried speeding slowly up dramatically with convulsive starts and stops, eyes darting between the car hunting them and the collisions to come. Each uneven motion made the agents queasy. Their screams and the cracking of natural growth were the dominate sounds as they slid down the untamed terrain. So pitted and filled with tall blades of grass the ground was, neither grunt anticipated or could foresee (for a literal matter) the car skidding down a steep hill only for the front of the vehicle to ram into a firmly rooted and thick tree trunk. In one backlash, the thugs jerked violently in their seats, their faces meeting the abrupt and forceful comfort of puffy airbags. A few minutes passed before either one came to their senses, weakly batting the airbags away as they collected their thoughts.

Cassidy's head swirled, smelling the unpleasant fumes the car was giving off from the impact against the sturdy bark. "Uggh, my head," she moaned, eyes tightly shut as her head hung low.

"Why did you have to give me such a confusing name, Mommy?" Butch whimpered soon after, clearly in a more stunned state than his female partner.

They both wallowed in their stupor for a little longer, the minor hit and jarred bodies taking a toll on their thought process and focus. Cassidy was the first to be coherent enough to try to snap out of the fuzzy haze, shaking her head with soft groans. As she flashed her violet eyes upward, their blurred scrutiny lined up with the side mirror, and saw what looked like a foggy silhouette of a car door opening from behind, and a body coming out-

The Team Rocket agent shot up and panicked hands shook her partner awake. "C'mon Butcher, we gotta move!" Cassidy ordered, stumbling out of the car in rushed steps.

Butch shrugged and undid his seat belt. "Eh, close enough."

Legs quaked and wobbled as the grunts raced to the middle of the seat, somehow believing they could grab Jay and successfully prevent him from landing in the safe hands of his comrades. Though they knew they were kidding themselves, burning fright and outrage consuming them as desperate hands worked to move as fast they could. Tragically, Cassidy and Butch's jarred muscles and bilious stomachs prevented their crafty fingers from clutching the handles of the car doors.

"Thought you could get away so easily?"

Before the grunts were a cross Drake and Misty, standing in typical heroic and nonnegotiable poses as if blocking any form of escape to occur. Anxious from the pinch they were in, both Cassidy and Butch backed up, not knowing where to dash. Their car was obviously inadequate to make another getaway, and carrying an unconscious Jay wasn't exactly ideal or practical either, especially with that ominous edge so close. Left with no other option, the criminals boldly confronted the trainers.

"Actually, we did for a second- oww!" Punched by Cassidy's sharp elbow, Butch bent forward, his hands clamping onto his now throbbing gut by the painful impact.

Or at least they tried.

"Cut the crap, Mr. Orange Crew Leader!" hollered Cassidy, unmoved by the physical suffering she had caused her partner. She relished the sight of the trainers stiffening, their eyes speaking of fright at the sound of their names falling from her lips. Cassidy smiled at this. "Yes, that's right. We know who you _both_ are. After following _you_ around all day and spying on_ you_, little missy, at the Pokémon Center, we could clearly see for ourselves what your true identities are. The only thing we don't understand is why Ketchum would recruit either of you."

So Team Rocket still followed them, even with the pesky tracking device long gone. Wonderment of how they discovered their presence in Saffron irked Drake, but not enough to allow either agent to feel satisfaction of their capture or the silent panic they had stirred up inside him and Misty. It was likely they'd uncover their names, Drake himself not holding his breath, considering the circumstances. Still, it was an unpleasant development, one in which he knew Jay would be just as furious about if not more.

Blue eyes studied the cocky female grunt for a second, his facial expression unchanging. "That'll have to remain a mystery then," Drake soon shot back.

Cassidy huffed, placing a confident hand on her trimmed waist. "What I'd expect to hear from a typical brawny hero such as yourself."

"I think it's best for you two to hit the road and forget about Ketchum," added Butch, a smirk morphing as he folded his arms over his chest. Apparently, he had gotten over his hit to the gut, or at least he covered up the ache behind a forced cocksure grin. "If you know what kind of trouble he's in, then I doubt you'll want to_ fully_ be a part of it."

"Otherwise you'll just end up facing the same fate as him," Cassidy continued, working together in shooing their enemies away. "Now you wouldn't want that, would you?"

"You should be thankful for our offer to let you escape. So just hit the highroad and get lost," the male grunt carried on, stealing the trainers' attention before they had a chance to respond.

"Not a chance!" Misty hollered with a firm stance, catching Drake by surprise. "We're already knee-deep in this mess, so there's no way we're going to turn around and let you get away _that_ easily!"

"That's right," the islander agreed. "If you want Jay you'll have to beat us in a battle first!"

The trainers first moved a decent distance from the vehicles, centering themselves in an open area of grass and minor trees...with a short drop ever so nearby. From there, a swift hand dove for the pokebelt strapped around Drake's waist, unclipping and tossing a spinning pokeball high in the air. Flying up a great distance, the 'ball split open and a cast of bright, blinding light spewed out and released the colossal Venusaur he had called out for. Giant, talon feet of the plant-like dinosaur slammed themselves against the earth's surface, a minor shock wave shooting through the uneven terrain. Misty could feel her own feet lurch from the pressure while she observed Drake enduring the vibration, assuming he was accustomed to the quake his Pokémon gave off. A low groan erupted from the dinosaur's throat, his eyes narrowed and focused on the enemy across from him and his master. Finding it imperative to partake in the battle, Misty too reached to grapple a pokeball on her 'belt, and in a strong but graceful throw she called upon her own warrior.

"I choose you, Azu- Psyduck?!"

Immediately, the redhead's now twitchy fingers froze in midair, the pokeball she selected still within her grasp. Psyduck to no surprise had sprung from his 'ball off of her 'belt, regardless of the fact that she had selected the water mouse over him. Misty gawked at the back of her yellow duck's head, frustration beginning to boil through puffy cheeks. Twirling in a slow motion, Psyduck's wings rested on top of his head as he plainly looked and cooed to his trainer.

Misty's fists tightened in front of her, a moan erupting in her throat. "No, not you! Get back inside your pokeball!"

The refusal of the duck's submission and the girl's flustering chagrin made the Team Rocket agents chortle, their confidence blooming as they selected their battlers.

"Humph! This will be a cinch! Let's go, Primeape!" shouted Butch, soaring the 'ball forward.

"You too, Houndoom!" called out Cassidy.

Between two white powerful flashes emerged the punching pig-monkey and the macabre sleek black dog, settling themselves on the ground and hunkering down for a fight. Both grunts and Drake prepared themselves mentally, their eyes locked as a strategic plan raced in their heads.

Calmly self-assured, Drake glanced to the redhead. "You ready, Misty?"

Misty's gaze traveled to the yellow duck near her feet. She sighed. "Ready as I'll ever be."

Commencing the battle, Drake took advantage of commanding the first move. "Venusaur, let's shake things up with an earthquake attack!"

Rumbles from the dinosaur's girth slammed against the solid earth and caused unstable vibration. Feet wobbled to stay steady by both trainers and their Pokémon, all struggling to remain attentive. The surrounding grounds shook so much that both vehicles shuddered and slowly inched in random movements across the tearing grass. Jay's car, in particular, while in closer proximity to Venusaur, jolted closer to the edge, all too wrapped up in the battle to notice...

If Cassidy and Butch believed they had a better chance at winning this match as Misty perceived, then underestimating Drake was a foolish move on their account. He was the Orange Crew Leader, for goodness sake! If anyone could handle battling two Pokémon with one from his arsenal, it was him. Mastery of advanced tactics, move strategies, and studying type advantages, the man had the upper hand above all. He was natural on the battlefield, experiencing many difficult fights on his own terrain back on the flourishing island of Pummelo.

And yet, a ball of worry built inside Misty's chest as she contributed to the battle.

"Psyduck, you help too with your water-gun!" instructed the redhead, wanting to combine attacks for a greater impact.

But all she received was a gawk of a head.

"Psy?"

Misty blinked, and then growled. "No! Not _psy_!" she snapped, her index finger pointing forward. "Get in there and battle! Mr. Ketchum's life is at stake! Think of that!"

"Psy?"

"Oh, I should have known better than to expect Psyduck to understand me," she mumbled, a hand resting on her face.

To the young gym leader's disadvantage, however, there was no time to wade and reconsider how to communicate with her naturally challenged duck. Cassidy had boldly ordered her Houndoom to unleash a foggy smog attack, clouding the entire area in a thick purple-gray haze and unpleasant odor. Instinctively, Misty's hand reached for her mouth, eyes blinded by the thick, dark gusts entangling the light.

"I can't see a thing!" she exclaimed between abrupt coughs.

Their weapon of sight had been taken away, alerting Drake to heighten a different sensory detail. Hearing was on their side, patiently waiting for Team Rocket's Pokémon to strike by the mere sound of an attack or noisy footsteps.

"All right Primeape, you know what to do!"

Taking in Butch's discreet command, rash, hurried steps were made by the ape as Drake assumed. They started off in heavy stomps as expected- then silence came. Primeape simply freezing would be pointless, causing the islander to think of the most plausible answer. If Primeape stopped, then where and how did it plan to assault...? The silhouette from a branch above rattled, Drake jumping into action.

"Strike back with razor leaf from up above!"

Blades of impeccably sharp leaves were unleashed as instructed, Drake's prediction accurate as Primeape glided down from its safe place in the fleshed branches. The hit was taken successfully, the Pokémon falling and missing its chance to execute a proper cross-chop. Aplomb flourished inside Drake at the definite win, mostly out of hope and trust in his Pokémon, causing the man to fetch what he and Misty had originally stumbled into the forest for.

"Misty, go get Jay!" he hollered, motioning towards the enemy's car. "I'll stall them!"

She hesitated for a moment, feeling terrible for not being able to provide much for their team, but submitted to Drake's request nonetheless.

"Okay!"

Alarm pounded in Cassidy's chest as she witnessed Misty's start to Jay, now having to divide their efforts in order for them to conquer this clash. By her own choosing, a direct point to the redhead was made, demanding eyes looking to Houndoom.

"Stop her!"

Misty's pace increased rapidly, peering back to find the dog hurling her way. She was aware of the poisonous bite the hellhound could inflict upon her body, and so she pumped her arms wildly in the air to escape potential danger. The fierce sound of a howl nearly sent her tumbling down by her own trembling knees and feet, only to discover Psyduck had finally made himself useful by shooting a gush of a water attack on the back and hind legs of the dog.

"Thanks Psyduck!" she beamed, a breath of relief being released.

The redhead's wave of thankfulness was, alas, cut short. Houndoom may have been distracted by the water type, but Team Rocket didn't plan on letting her snatch Jay that easily. Rampaging feet came storming behind Misty, fists pumping vigorously with raging eyes. She was now Primeape's main target and Drake saw such, having Venusaur's outstretched vine whips nick the heels of the obsessed creature and wrap them with its many vines. The Pokémon squealed at the unexpected takedown, fists beating down on the ground as if throwing a tantrum while squirming to break free. All would have believed Misty would reach Jay without further complications, until Houndoom produced a full-blown flamethrower, scorching the deep green vines. Recoiling in a dramatic cry, Venusaur withdrew its primary form of defense and could only rest for a moment, ignoring Drake's concern and hurriedly attempting to now protect Psyduck instead of Misty. Oh, this battle was a disaster! Houndoom saw interest in making Psyduck out to be a meal with its deadly bite, distracting the grass type before jaws chomped down on the duck's head.

Fear and internal cursing consumed Misty, realizing she was on her own with a rampaging Primeape back on her trail. There was no obvious place to hide, not from above, not when Primeape was an extraordinary climber. Although there was a gap, tight enough for her only to fit under... Taking a giant leap and tumble downward, Misty rolled underneath the car, just scarcely missing the mighty punch from the deranged Primeape. Catching her breath, Misty's pupils dilated as she saw its determination pound away at the car, trying to get below the structure to seize her. A cry broke out, hysterically afraid as her mind recalled the time she had to deal with a furious Primeape (Ash's to boot). But setting that recollection aside quickly, Misty worked to develop a new tactic. Quivering hands flew to her pokebelt once more, unclipping the only other member in her arsenal.

"Please help me, Azurill," she gulped, gently releasing her Pokémon with a small roll in front of her. Inhaling, Misty watched the 'ball only spin a couple of feet before cracking open, revealing the small blue mouse. In the process of being called out, she was rather cheery and full of excitement, which led to an innocent head bump against the car. Misty winced at this, observing the mouse wobble clumsily as she made way to her master.

"Oh, Azurill!" Misty cooed in a motherly tone, rubbing the Pokémon's sore noggin. "Are you okay?"

"Azu..." she mumbled back, her eyes fuzzily focusing on her trainer.

Tenderly, Misty placed her hands on each side of the mouse, settling the Pokémon in a stable stance as she spoke. "Azurill, if you're coherent enough, I need you to help me get rid of this Primeape. Can you do that?"

Blinks of blue lids fluttered at the redhead, the Pokémon slowly looking to her trainer then to the round fists pummeling against the bottom of the car. No more communication was needed for Azurill to understand the important request, gazing back up at Misty with a solid nod. "Azu!"

Misty broke out into a smile. "All right, Azurill! Hit it with the most powerful water-gun you've got!"

Little soft stomps of blue feet turned in the direction of the target, soft eyes hardening as Azurill prepped herself for a promising attack. Sucking in a deep breath, the Pokémon arched her back just slightly before releasing a huge stream of water from her mouth. The gushing current of cold liquid instantaneously knocked the pig-monkey off its feet, gliding the creature far away. Seconds passed as the mighty stream fully prevailed, Misty distinctively hearing the enemy's Primeape crash against something and causing hollers to ensue.

Also knowing trouble had been resolved, Azurill sprung happily, earning a bigger grin from her master. "Thanks, Azurill!" exclaimed Misty, rubbing the mouse's head. "Now let's go get Mr. Ketchum."

She crawled out the other side with the propelling of her elbows, propping her body up slowly now with filthy knees. Barely recuperating from the attack against the Primeape, Misty immediately went to work in fetching Jay. Swinging the door open in one strong tug, Misty gradually rose to take a peek inside the vehicle. He was sprawled out, still somewhat contorted by the jarring ride. Grave worry crossed the redhead's face, hands diving straight for his ankles to pull him out. Azurill, being the little trooper she was, also aided in the rescuing of Jay, jumping into the car and racing to the other side only to pathetically push his head. Having Drake with her would have made hauling the grown man's immobilized body a much easier task, seeing she only had the strength of an average teenager, hardly capable of tugging a toned man out in a graceful manner. Yet Misty persisted, heaving ceaselessly inch by inch until he was hanging halfway out of the car. From there, she grabbed him by the shoulders, and with rocky arms placed him down on the grass. Gripping Jay's wrists, Misty then proceeded to drag him a good distance away from Team Rocket's vehicle, cloaking them in some undergrowth for protection.

In bouncy footsteps, Azurill waddled up next to her crouched trainer, observing Misty remove the Nidoking head off Jay in heavy pants.

_Please be okay, _prayed Misty, a hand gently brushing the hair off his face. Still in a panicked state, the gym leader calmed herself and did the first logical thing that crossed her mind. Two fingers lined together carefully and laid themselves upon Jay's neck. After a brief search, a pulse was located. A heavy sigh of thankfulness spewed.

"He's alive. But he's knocked out cold," she said aloud, her hand drawing back. Then, she looked to her Pokémon. "Let's get him out of this costume."

Walking cautiously behind the overgrown bushes, Misty slid the costume off his body, feeling the warmth against his legs while Azurill pulled with her tiny mouth. _He must have been roasting inside that thing. Thankfully he's okay, but as to when he'll wake up..._

Saying that Misty and Drake could use Jay's aid was an understatement. Now earning the title as Pokémon Master, if anyone could blast Team Rocket off, it was him! But she and Drake were extremely skilled and accomplished trainers, adept at handling any sort of battle... It was unfair. She didn't have her strongest teammates with her, and being so disoriented from the crash it was no wonder they were struggling to send the criminals soaring into the clouds. Drake was putting up an ample fight, keeping them at arm's length. With how fast that Houndoom and Primeape were exceptionally moving, the islander struggled to juggle shouting out more defense moves as well as attempt to reach for another pokeball. If only she could come racing in with a new form of defense, possibly wiping Team Rocket's arsenal out with one single attack-

_That's it!_

Sea-green eyes fell to Jay's waist, widening at the sight of the still-attached pokebelt holding all six of his creatures. But before she could recruit any Pokémon's help, there was a slight problem. Which was which? None were marked, which particularly irritated the girl at a dire time such as this! Some of the 'balls appeared more worn than others, making Misty assume they might have belonged to the Pokémon Jay had owned for a longer period of time. But that was still a guess, and even if she threw a pokeball that might have a more skilled fighter inside, the type had the probability of being a poor match up with the enemies' chosen elements. So, in the intensity of her brilliant idea, Misty simply grabbed one of the 'balls near his left hip and went with her gut.

Clasping it firmly in her hand, she gleamed down at the red and white 'ball, the sunlight reflecting her serious glow. _I don't know what you are, but we need your help. _"Go, pokeball!"

With one thrust upward, the pokeball rotated near the lowest tree branches and released a creature so large, the branches turned into twigs. A lump rested in Misty's throat, her body rising with vigilant eyes as she collected a stiff Azurill in her arms. It didn't appear so scary at the Pokémon Center, so big, maybe because she was so enthralled with Jay's Swampert she dismissed its abnormal height of a couple extra feet and girth, but now... From Misty's perspective on the ground, having the animal tower over her with its intimidating shadow blocking any sunlight, the realization hit her harder than expected. Evidently, Jay didn't switch this Pokémon out and Misty could see exactly why. She only wished she had observed the Pokémon closer, seeing how without Jay consciously present, it looked completely...different.

Its piercing eyes followed her every move. Then, it glanced down at Jay. A giant inhale was taken in of the man's scent, his dark hair blowing by the powerful huff. The creature's head titled, its teeth bearing.

And she ran.

* * *

A vibration was sensed. But as to its origin, no one could perceive.

The small puddle that shot profoundly across the grassy area made by Azurill's earlier water-gun formed ripples. They appeared tranquil at first glimpse, but the repetitive thud caused them to seem quite the opposite. Then, a heavy sound emerged. The Pokémon paused their battling first, attacks ceasing as they stood inches away from one another, poses tightening as ears twitched. Even Psyduck paused and detected a foreboding feeling, cocking his head to the side with a perplexed stare. Venusaur, too, lifted his large head high, his naturally alerted senses working to evaluate the situation with a fixated stare to the left and vine whips perched in midair. Drake's forehead wrinkled at this, his eyes shooting to Team Rocket's frozen Pokémon, then to the criminals themselves. His fingers were tightly bound around the pokeball dangling from his long necklace, contemplating if he should call out Dragonite to finish this tiresome feud. But now, being distracted...

_Misty... _Drake immediately wondered if this was her doing. All she had was Azurill besides Psyduck, ruling out the answer that it was a Pokémon of hers considering the echoing thud that had been made. _If_ it was a Pokémon in the first place. Though of course she could have...

"What's the matter with you two?" eventually bellowed Cassidy, stumped by their reactions. "Let's finish this battle already!"

"Quiet, Cass," ordered Butch with a raise of his hand, his nervous eyes darting about. "That sound..."

Entranced enough by the ominous noise herself, Cassidy kept her mouth shut and studied her partner's concentrated gaze momentarily before looking to the continual rippling of water. "It almost reminds me of footsteps," she commented quietly._ "Large_ footsteps."

White their faces became as they glanced over to Drake, who appeared the least bit scared. They couldn't read his poker face, however it was evident his nerves weren't as rattled by the sound as theirs. The islander was more on the lines of...puzzled. Wondering perhaps if Misty had done something, called out for _something_... Violet and brown eyes met and communicated. Jay's pokebelt. Neglect had been on their part not to strip the 'belt off of him, simply because it would be a pointless action seeing he was out like a light. On the other hand, by the closing in of weighty steps, perhaps they should have gone the extra mile with safety precautions.

Then suddenly, in one epic crash, the revealed Tyranitar came charging out of the brush, enormous feet hammering against the ground in a rhythmic beat as it raced straight to the humans and their Pokémon. A head of red hair was identified as Misty's by the spectators, her arms bundled tightly around Azurill as she made a mad dash towards Drake. Unlike the scared-stiff criminals, Drake bolted towards the girl and pulled her vigorously by the arm, pushing her behind himself for protection. He backed up hurriedly, their feet nearly tripping as they distanced themselves from the approaching beast.

Venusaur took action in shielding his trainer, and Drake prepared to use his strongest attack deriving from the large pink-white flower on his back, which ironically took the longest amount of time to fester. His blunt snout pointed towards the ground as if proposing a challenge to the massive beast, though Tyranitar appeared to end her barreling. Instead, she found sniffing out her quarry more engaging, penetrating eyes lingering to the two motionless agents. Dipping her head forward, she approached the pair, eyes dashing between them and their alarmed Primeape and Houndoom. She took not much interest in them, however, wanting to form physical contact with the humans. Her nostrils opening up much like she did to Jay... Soon, a low, intense growl rumbled against the creature's throat, her nostrils and two jaws of sharp, pointed teeth bearing themselves at the petrified Cassidy and Butch. Hot streams of air blew in one puff onto the Team Rocket agents, their faces and necks soaked by the perspiration that only furthered to redden their warming cheeks.

Noticeably, a gulp sunk down Butch's throat, his stance shaking the hardest, for he was closest to the great bipedal Pokémon. "An-and ap-p-parently, it h-has _l-large_ n-n-nostrils, t-too," he dared to remark, shifty eyes gleaming to Cassidy then to the three claws on each hand.

Stupefied breaths inhaled and exhaled from Drake's chest, surveying the creature with Misty clinging to the back of his vest. Tyranitar's movements weren't as rash as he expected they'd be. It almost seemed as if she was taking in the odor of the agents, conceivably matching the aroma up with another scent she had smelled earlier.

Heedful blue eyes peering over his broad shoulder, the islander looking to Misty with a soft whisper falling from his lips. "Misty- did Tyranitar sniff Jay by any chance?"

"Y-yes," she sputtered, fingers digging deeper into her only form of a security blanket. "But what does that have to do with anything? She's clearly out of control without Mr. Ketchum present!"

"Possibly," Drake replied with thought. "But I don't think that explains all of her actions. If anything, if she saw Jay in such a state of being motionless and noticed that his scent was off... I think she might want to know who harmed Jay."

Misty's eyes lit up at the islander's connection, the wheels of sense starting to turn in her head. Concerning the bond Pokémon made with their masters and the well-known fact that animals communicate through fragrances and body movements, Drake's clever assumption was agreeable to Misty. When faced with danger, Tyranitar took on a whole new personality. The once thought to be passive creature bore furrowed eyes and an exceptional glare that would terrify any other hunter. Seeing her trainer in a motionless state must have indicated to the creature to act on instinctual, aggressive impulse. That, or Misty misread the Tyranitar she saw back at the Pokémon Center, the one who appeared so calm and quiet, who allowed Jay to stroke her snout without debate. It could be assumed that with Jay _not_ around, the dinosaur morphed into the primitive beast she truly was out of fright. That still didn't settle Misty's nerves entirely, pondering endlessly what Tyranitar would do if that was the case. If she believed they were the ones who brought discomfort upon her master...

Masculine fingers intertwined with Misty's, gently easing her to release her grip on Drake's vest. And then, he boldly proceeded forward. A cry was caught in the back of Misty's throat, petrified as he drew attention their way.

"Tyranitar!" Drake called out, the creature's head turning to face him. "I know you may not recognize us immediately, but you have to trust us. We're here to help Jay! Your master! We were the ones at the center with him!"

Expecting her to comprehend the complexity of the human language would be foolish; however, as a skilled and committed trainer, Drake found Pokémon had the tendency to pick up on key words, possibly even phrases. Staying silent with knocking knees, Misty prayed Drake's method would work. Her arms huddled Azurill closer to her chest while Psyduck quacked and scrambled over to the girl, pathetically clinging to her leg. An eye barely cracked open to discover Tyranitar had stomped over to a confident Drake, her strides slow but ever so curious as she loomed down to meet him at eye level. A momentary inspection of the islander was made, the Orange Crew Leader's body hardly flinching when confronted with the Pokémon's slit nostrils meeting his tresses. Then, her abrupt, thunderous roar sent Drake's hair astray, eyes clamping shut as he endured the ear-splitting cry. Unsure if she should intervene, Misty remained still, and with both eyes widening, a jaw-dropping sight was exhibited to all. An alliance had been formed within seconds, Tyranitar giving Drake one final look before sweeping her gaze to Venusaur. In turn, the squatty, quadruped Pokémon locked eyes with her and within a few seconds, a nod surfaced. There was an understanding of some kind, an establishment that she could trust Venusaur and his trainer who claimed to be helping Jay. Who did not wreak the odor of that foul Nidoking costume or those quivering agents.

"No way," breathed Misty in amazement.

She couldn't believe her eyes when Tyranitar stood by Venusaur without any hesitation, both of them slipping into distinctive battle stances. Against Cassidy and Butch. Commands were apparently unneeded, for one final nod from Drake was all that the Pokémon required. The glowing deep inside the bloom of Venusaur's stalk emerged, a swelling of bright shimmering light steadily generating power to burst out. Tyranitar took it upon herself to generate a hyperbeam inside her mouth, the attack also taking its time to flourish with its own violent form of offense. Running was out of the question for Cassidy and Butch. Despite their chances of being victorious, their stubbornness refused them to yield. So instead, they commanded their Pokémon to fire more rash attacks.

"We're not giving up yet! Houndoom, come at Venusaur with fire fang!"

"Primeape, hit Tyranitar with a thrash attack!"

Furious paws dashed across the green terrain, Houndoom's fiery mouth opening with a long jump to clutch the stalk of Venusaur. To the hell dog's surprise, its blazing teeth were unable to tear through the bark and was soon cast high above the ground, fastened in the many vines the grass type had cunningly defended himself with. Evenly balancing the tight grip the vines held of the squirming hound, the creature was still able to concentrate on its primary attack. And it was growing all the more stronger. Needless to say, Primeape had just as much luck if not less. Its coiled fists and pumping legs made not one single blow as the swift, spiked tail of Tyranitar whirled and smacked itself against the pig-monkey. It was hurled into the air soon after, colliding against Jay's car before bouncing off and crashing straight into Butch's gut.

The car drew closer to the edge.

Fumbling backwards by the impact, the male grunt plummeted to the ground, leaving both him and his Pokémon in a dizzy, incoherent state. Grinding teeth and a growl was made by Cassidy at the disarray, infuriated eyes flashing back at her opponent. But all was too late for her to make anyone pay. The combination of the beams shooting out from the Pokémon was indescribable, their harmonious delivery affecting not only their opponents but taking a heavy toll on their surroundings. Vines speedily retracted, Houndoom striking the ground and soon striking its trainer. Team Rocket and their Pokémon were all huddled together as soaring beams made contact with their helpless states. Misty and Drake became blinded by the light as the explosion they anticipated boomed across the landscape. Clouds of dust and debris launched themselves in uncontrollable mind-boggling winds as the trainers grabbed each other and fell to the grass for protection. Screams could be heard from a distance behind the impeccable gusts, sending Cassidy and Butch with their creatures high in the sky.

The shock wave hitting the earth had not terminated; its impact simmered as a loud creaking sound dragged on. Both Misty and Drake looked up at this point, their eyes blurred by the dust blustering through with Psyduck and Azurill clinging onto them. But their eyes were not blurred enough to not see the source of the creaking and the dramatic tip that followed.

A shrill gasp leaped from Misty's throat. "The car!"

Structure of the mossy cliff was loosened, a thunderous shatter heard from below as they remained shell-shocked in their huddled positions. Weak elbows and unsteady gazes peered over their shoulders in heavy pants. Misty gulped. Drake bit down hard on his tongue.

They looked to each other.

Now, after all that turmoil, it had to be decided who would look at the wreckage of Jay's car first.

* * *

Somehow, volunteering could not distract Ash from the impending intention riding in the back of his head.

He found it imperative to keep himself busy after looking for Gary in town, seeing he could not locate his old rival. Ash, with Pikachu's accompaniment, dropped by Gary's house early that afternoon but no one was home. He then assumed Prof. Oak's lab was the last and likely place left to check. However, after Delia's nearly forbidding order for him not to step foot in the Pokémon infested building, the teenager strayed over to the inn and left Pikachu at home to savor some rest. Once arriving, his mother casually asked if he had met up with Gary to which Ash confessed he had searched high and low for him, only to turn up with no acceptance of an apology. Thankfully, Delia understood and pressed he'd go spend the rest of the day with Brock. Ash insisted that he'd rather lend a hand with the front counter. Brock was still over at the laboratory, and Ash wanted no temptation in going until he fulfilled his promise and confronted Gary.

Though the idea of saying "I'm sorry" left a dreadful taste in his mouth.

As he continued to do some reorganizing of the front desk, Ash would occasionally feel a strange tingle up his spine. From time to time, the teenager gleamed into the dining room, leery of what felt like sets of eyes staring at him while he was working. But between every paranoid glance up, Ash found two newly hired waiters busy clearing tables or taking orders. It was a man and a woman, their gender nothing dubious of the sort, but for some reason the trainer could not shake the feeling they were watching him from afar. Eyes scanning him as if surprised he didn't have a certain someone perched on his shoulder...

Fingers tapped against the wood of the front desk, prompting Ash to break out of his focused trance. His gaze flew up, believing he'd find a guest in need of assistance. Instead, he discovered the person he had been dragging his feet stubbornly to seek.

Their eyes locked.

"What do you want, Gary?" Ash hissed, his dark brows narrowing. "I'm a little busy."

"Busy?" Gary snorted, his hands leaning on the top of the desk. "Doing what? Separating paperclips from tacks?"

Chocolate eyes wandered back to the clump of organization instruments in his hand. So_ maybe_ the chore he was attending to wasn't important or engrossing, but Ash certainly didn't find Gary much more fascinating in the slightest. Then again, with him here, coming to the inn on his own, Ash supposed he might as well get their painful conversation out of the way. God only knew how long Gary planned on standing there, taunting him until Ash dashed to the kitchen for another juicy plump pepper...

Within seconds, Ash glared back at his old rival. "...Make it fast."

"Don't you have something to say to me first?" Gary retorted, cocking a hinting eye.

"I _did_, before you made your paperclip and tack wisecrack."

"Well then Ash, forgive me for being so out of line," he spat back mockingly, playing the victim with a condescending tone. "I had no intentions of offending your riveting chore of sorting meaningless organization tools-"

"You want an apology?" Ash suddenly snapped, his voice rising with agitation and forwardness. "Fine, here's one. I'm sorry you can't control your mouth and that you have this bizarre need to make everyone else around you feel like garbage so you can feel better about yourself. It's pretty pathetic and I can imagine it's a hard habit to break. What I'm _not_ sorry for is putting the peppers in your burger because, you know what, Gary? You were asking for it. As much as that might shock you, you were _asking_ to lose your taste buds. You crossed a line that you knew would upset me and for what reason, I have no idea."

He would have breathed out heavily after declaring such an on-the-spot, in-your-face speech. But Ash remained tall and sturdy; his muscles tensing as he quietly studied the face of a silent Gary. Only a subtle darting of Gary's eyes proceeded, gleaming down at the two containers Ash was placing the tacks and paperclips in. Damn what Delia had asked of him. It was simply too much to humbly conceive. Gary obviously didn't walk in with good intentions, and Ash found it almost impossible to apologize to him when his old rival was the one awaiting an apology and hardly attempting to throw out his own pathetic attempt at one. Thoughts of a hopeful and pleased Delia danced in Ash's mind, and while the teenager wished not to dissatisfy and go against his mother's orders, Ash couldn't help himself. Gary _deserved_ a harsh reality check, regardless if Ash had to tell a _tiny _fib to his mom. It was worth it, for a swelling of hope bloomed inside Ash at Gary's silence, leading himself to believe that for once he left his old rival speechless, that not a single witty comeback could fall from his clamped, stunned lips. Even on the line of miracles, Gary could have learned and _saw_ the repercussions of his actions, and all it took was Ash being calmly assertive and straight to the point.

"...You have a tack mixed in with the paperclips."

Clearly, that was wishful thinking.

"Just leave," Ash sneered, disappointment and disgust cast upon his face.

"You know this isn't over," reminded Gary smugly, his thoughts of winning Harper back infiltrating his mind.

"As far as I'm concerned, it is," Ash finished, determination evident in his voice. "You already have a wanted poster in the making that will be _hung_ in Michelle's kitchen, and anyone who sees you _here_ in _this_ inn will most likely sound the alarm. And I'm sure you don't want her coming after you with a ladle now, do you?"

The sight of a tongue and a full set of teeth emerged, but was concealed by the tightening of an upset mouth. Relief spread within Ash at this, another surge of hope exhilarating through his nerves that Gary _at last_ got the message to turn around without uttering single word. But feet refused to twirl and stomp off to the front entrance, a harsh stare down between chocolate and emerald eyes that burned with indignation and stubbornness.

"A ladle is a pathetic weapon of choice," Gary soon rebutted, as if their battle of facetious wits honestly mattered.

"Well, I'll make a note of that," Ash sarcastically replied, feeding into it. "Maybe she can come at you with a frying pan instead. Or perhaps a toaster. I'm sure people would pay big money to see that."

An unexpected short laugh fell.

"You're unbelievable."

Ash gaped. "_What_?"

"You can't even figure out why I'm so pissed off with you," Gary responded, his dry chuckles thriving with a mild shake of his head.

"Do you ever have a solid reason for being a jerk?"

Time wasn't on their argument's side, for the calling of a familiar voice from a few feet away stole their primary attention. The word "boys" prompted both young men to glance over to the left, finding the woman they shared biological relations with smiling lightly at them with her expensive summer wear, even makeup, and flawless hair.

"H-hi, Grandma," Ash and Gary grumbled in unison, faint shades of embarrassment caressing their cheeks and ears.

Emily's grin remained as she approached the boys, leaving them unsure as to how long she had been standing there. From her pleasant expression, they both deduced it hadn't been for too long. Still, they were curious as to why their grandmother was here, of _all_ places at such an awkward time. And why Annie was with her as well. She followed behind her mother, also looking agreeable. But a continual wandering eye to Gary left Ash with the impression that there was something more to the situation that neither he nor Emily was aware of.

"Look at this," Emily began warmly, her arms open as she marveled at their presence, "my two grandsons standing before me. So handsome and so mature. Aren't they, Annie?"

Annie caught the brief gaze of her mother and nodded. "Oh yes, _very_ mature."

Standing behind Emily enough for the woman not to see, Annie shot a motherly gaze to her son, her mouth lipping to Gary a communication only they could understand. Her silent question was grinding on Gary's nerves, replying back to her with a firmly annoyed _"I did!_" between quiet enunciated lips. It was a conversation in which Ash only caught in snippets, but was far too distracted by Emily's words to observe the contents of the inaudible exchange.

"I know you both hear this often, but I just can't get over how grown up you boys are now," Emily continued with mild enthusiasm, prompting Gary to smile casually back at his grandmother while Ash's eyes unsteadily did the same. "Seeing you here, standing together- it was just yesterday you were crawling around on my living room carpet, so innocent...with fresh quilts, of course, so you couldn't possibly stain it," she added as if the clarification was needed.

Then, her smile returned. "And now look at you! At last out of that silly stage of petty squabbles, and finally getting along like the capable and intelligent boys you are. Refreshing, isn't it, Annie?"

"Yes, absolutely," she replied, glancing to her gabbing mother once more.

Repeating her actions, Annie followed through by giving her son another stern look of confirmation, only to earn a bigger eye roll and exasperated sigh entailing a definite: "_yes_._"_ Annie wasn't kidding this time, not after all the details that had been relayed to her over Gary's ruthless words. They were beyond inappropriate, and the genuine agreement between her and Chad made it all the more clear to a shamed Gary for him to make amends with Ash. Annie certainly didn't want to hold her son's hand and monitor him during the process, but she didn't want verification from Gary that his "heartfelt apology" was indeed given to Ash, only to discover he had lied. With Harper _refusing_ to return his calls, Annie would have hoped he'd dig deep for that alone to be his motivation in making a change in his behavior. Like any other mother, Annie just wanted the best for her son.

Even if that meant confronting ugly problems she tried to steer clear of when Gary was younger.

Finally concluding her ironic rant, which left both teenagers somewhat embarrassed by their contradicting actions of their grandma's beliefs, Emily cut to the chase.

"So, what are you boys up to?" she asked, in what could be defined as her form of an "upbeat" tone.

Nervous eyes glanced to Gary, wincing at the thought of their earlier dispute. Obviously, Ash couldn't reveal such a "petty squabble" to Emily and quickly formed a half-truth answer. "Uh, I'm helping Mom," he said, praying she wasn't catching on to the hesitation in his voice.

"And I was uh- giving Ash a hand."

Ash scoffed underneath his breath.

_Yeah right._ That was a flat-out lie! Resisting a furrowing of eyebrows and frown, Ash suppressed the urge to belt out the honest to goodness truth of Gary's sudden appearance. He as much as his cousin did not want Emily to discover their little incident of outrageously hot peppers and crude remarks, but _at least_ Ash could vouch that his reply was partially factual!

To Ash's dismay, and fortune for Gary's sake, Emily beamed an even brighter smile at him, one that glowed with approval and gratification from her perspective on the situation. "Well, how thoughtful of you, Gary," she noted, as if he needed any more praise for his overly inflated ego. "Your mother and I were just finishing up some last minute adjustments for the party. But now it seems Leah has run off somewhere right when I needed to speak with her about the confirmation of the linen orders."

Irritation seemed evident in Emily's posture and voice, a classic huff indicating she had better things to attend to than search the inn's entire perimeter for her daughter-in-law's mother. Luckily, before any complaining began, Annie's watchful eye spotted Delia across the way, talking with what appeared to be a couple of guests.

"Hey uh, Mom?" the blonde woman started up, moving along the conversation. "I'll ask Delia where Leah is. She'll probably know."

"Oh, would you?" Emily perked up. "Thank you, Annie."

"No problem." Beginning her walk, she passed by Ash with a gentle smile and then playfully patted her son on the shoulder with one last word. "And if I don't see you when I come back, I will see you at home."

Holding back the urge to groan, Gary caught on to his mother's words, indicating for him to continue behaving while she was away. He despised being treated like a ten-year-old, though after acting the way he did...he could hardly blame her, and desperately craved for things to be different. But nothing was that simple.

Once Annie made her exit, Ash turned his attention to his grandma, attempting to make casual talk. If anyone was going to dominate the discussion, he didn't want Gary to feel he could just jump in and take advantage of Emily's clearly ignorant view on their rocky relationship.

"Linen orders? So what's that about?" he asked quizzically, trying to stay up-to-date with all the preparations for the celebration to come.

"The tablecloths and napkins that are currently supplied here are completely unacceptable," explained Emily, appearing appalled as if what Leah and the others had was something one could dig out of a trashcan. "New ones have to be ordered if this place wants to make the right impression of a successful business. But I still need confirmation from Leah if she's definite on the guava-colored tablecloths and beige napkins we selected earlier."

"I see."

Oh yes, how _dire_ it was to purchase color coordinating tablecloths and napkins. Ash's fingers twiddled at his sides, already edgy for his other grandma to appear and for Emily to leave. Then for _Gary_ to be gone, as well. He was agitated, and making an effort to converse over something he struggled to fully engage in was leaving him with little to say on the subject.

Thankfully for him this time around, Leah had come out of hiding.

Gary's brows rose as he picked up the sound of her voice, finding the woman standing beside his mom and Delia. "Uh, Grandma?" the brunette prompted, motioning to the women. "I think Mom and Aunt Delia found her for you."

"Well, it's about time!" she exclaimed, behaving as if she had been waiting a century. "Thank you, Gary."

What Ash and Gary perceived was for their grandma to make her grand exiting bow from their company was only false hope. On the contrary, she barely made two steps before turning to one of them in particular, singling him out for a last minute announcement. "Oh, and Ash, before I go, I wanted to let you know that your grandfather was wondering if you could stop by sometime next week. We've been sprucing up our unused rooms for renovation purposes and he has some things of your father's he thought you might be interested in. Apparently, your father neglected to take a few items when he- initially moved out."

She fell silent after that, her face contorted in an uncomfortable stare. As if adjusting herself. From there, Emily eventually carried on, her poise ever so stiff and exact, lacking a bountiful array of emotions. "Anyhow, if you can call soon and tell him what day works for you, he would most appreciate it."

Midnight eyebrows rose in surprise. Richard had some items? _Belongings of Jay's_? Never in Ash's wildest dreams did he think he'd be able to possess any of his father's treasures, much less have them offered to him by his grandparents. Excitement stirred inside the teenager, wondering what exactly lay in his dad's previous home. What he exactly left behind and why... Whatever they were, Emily evidently had no use for them and had enough decency to consider her grandson as someone of interest regarding the unspecified items.

"Sure," Ash nodded, eagerness showing through brightening eyes. "That's great- I would love to have some of Dad's stuff. Tell Grandpa I'll give him a call."

"Very well," she responded hurriedly, adjusting the strap of her purse. "I'll see you both later then."

"Bye, Grandma."

The trainers' farewell mingled together in hardly a mumble this time, both speaking clearer and louder for different reasons. Ash, curious of Emily's sudden departure and change in tune over the mention of his father, and Gary silently crafting his own thoughts. The claims his grandmother made swirled in his head until they interlaced with _another _discovery he could not erase from his memory all day. It was something weighing heavily on him, bothersome and troubling, in fact, and at last he had a chance to unleash those tantalizing thoughts in one wickedly brilliant scheme.

Eventually, a mischievous twinkle lit in Gary's green eyes.

"You know, Ash," he suddenly began, his nasally voice ringing with a familiar chime, "Grandma _does_ make a point. We have matured a lot despite our differences all this time."

Ash frowned. "Don't be a smartass, Gary. I think you've used up your share of sarcastic comments for one day."

Along with his crotchety attitude and that he wished for Gary to disappear into thin air, Ash brushed his cousin off and proceeded with the organizing. Though the brunette proved once again to be a not so easy nuisance to get rid of, his movements lingering to face Ash across the desk.

"I'm not," he said lightly, unceasing his sardonic innocence. "I recognize after our latest fight we have made- a setback in our maturity. And quite frankly, us 'getting along' is most of the time a show for our parents."

An open palm crashed on the assortment of paperclips and tacks on the counter, both palms then firmly pressing themselves down on the top of the wooden desk. "Don't you have somewhere else to be? Someone _else_ to pester?" Ash interrogated, his back hunched with bristling annoyance.

Gary just smirked at this. Ash's frown deepened. How much more blunt hinting would the kid have to do before Gary grew tired of his own little charade?

"As unbearable as it is for the both of us to even_ stand_ being in the same room and pretend to be polite to one another- I've thought of an idea that could bring us closer as cousins...and could also benefit us. Benefits for my own personal circumstances...and you with your dad."

Palms plastered on wood stiffened, fingers slid harshly against the even surface as they fully morphed into fists. Ash's stomach twisted in an unbreakable knot, his heart pounding madly, thoughts rushing in utter confusion. The benefit Gary insinuated- something regarding his father... A shake of his head occurred. What sort of proposal was this?

"Wh-what are you talking about?" Ash slowly said, his chocolate eyes shaking.

Lips curved up, Gary's upper body tilting forward until his mouth was near Ash's ear. "Here's the deal: you do me as many favors as I want for the next two weeks, and I'll tell you a secret."

His discreet whisper ended by putting distance between him and his cousin, standing tall with arms folded over his chest. Facial muscles tightened, Ash's pigment draining as he felt himself incapable of moving.

"Secret?" he echoed, rage filling his chest in a low growl. "Stop messing around with me, Gary. What the hell are you doing?-"

"You wanna know why your dad left, don't you?"

That was such an obvious and ludicrous question in Ash's eyes, yet he felt his tongue struggle to answer, his head spinning with any mere mention of the father absent from his life. "I- I _do_ know why," he said, his voice growing meek. "He wanted to travel, to earn badges-"

"You know as well as I do that's not the full truth," Gary persisted, a creeping of a smug smile pulling on his lips. "And I've got evidence to prove it."

Evidence? Now this was just getting ridiculous! What was this supposed to be? Some kind of morbid practical-prank? It wasn't funny and did not tickle Ash into hysterical laughter. Rather, he was boiling with befuddlement and undeniable fury, absolutely insulted his cousin presumed he could get away with pulling such hurtful nonsense after once already asking for a full dose of physical pain. If Gary thought messing with Ash about Misty as his personal "wench" _and_ calling his mother the "town-tart" had a harrowing enough consequence, then he had no clue what Ash was willing to do if he dared to mutter one single offensive comment about Jay and his vanishing.

And Ash was about to make it_ very_ clear to Gary that he wanted _no_ part in whatever he was concocting.

Inhaling a deep breath, Ash's eyes hardened, a dark brown hue taking over as he took his turn in invading Gary's personal space. He glared at his old rival then to the front door with a snarl. "I'm going to give you five seconds to run out of here before I _officially_ punch your lights out. You have no right coming here and taunting me with this fake 'evidence' you have!-"

"But it's not fake," Gary calmly insisted. "I have a source."

_A source? _How stupid did Gary really think he was? To fall for such rubbish as if he was a gullible ignoramus who would take the bait without question. Especially from the likes of _him_. Who was surely someone Ash wouldn't run to first for guidance and trust. More like he'd _run_ in the opposite direction from.

"_Who_?" Ash rebutted, anger blustering in his vocal cords. "Who in the world would have those answers? That's complete bullshit, Gary, and you know it. My mom doesn't even know-"

"Can't say," the brunette cut him off, shrugging and unreceptive to Ash's obstinacy. Until he threw back a cheeky grin. "Unless you do some things for me first. You wanna know about dear ol' dad? Then I _dare_ you to kiss up to me, do _anything_ I ask till the evening of your mom's 'big bash' here at the inn. Then, I'll tell you about your dad and my source. That, and you'll have to convince Harper to come to the party _and_ if you succeed you'll have to tell her that that little incident here was partially _your_ fault. And that...she should give me a second chance."

Was Gary dead serious about these terms? About withholding vital information that Ash rightfully deserved to know regarding his father's whereabouts? He appeared to be, articulating every word with enough conniving motivation and subtle manipulation. But Ash wasn't biting. He refused to believe any of it. The source and the presumption that he had the responsibility of apologizing to Harper. To give her sympathy for being with the likes of Gary, sure, but not take the fall for what ultimately transpired! None of it made logical sense, and Ash wasn't about to allow himself to be a ploy that would incontestably profit Gary while more so exploit him.

The dark-haired teenager snorted incredulously. "_My fault_? I'm sorry, but I think those peppers not only fried your taste-buds but your brain, too. You're cracked! There's no way I'm doing this just so Harper'll stop being mad at you for the way you acted, which is my guess, but hey, that's a stretch right? 'Cause no one could _ever_ be angry with what you do," he wittily added, getting right to the bottom of Gary's calculative plan. "And what do you get out of me doing you favors, anyhow? You'd just say I was doing whatever it is you want all wrong and-"

"Not, exactly," Gary contradicted thoughtfully, wagging a finger. "If you fulfill all the terms then there's no reason for me not to give you your half of the deal. Plus, just watching you act like a kiss-ass in front of everyone is an added treat in itself. And I _really_ could use a personal servant when I'm feeling a tad overwhelmed by my daily responsibilities."

The emitting of the words "personal servant" sent Ash's blood from boiling to erupting into an unhinged explosion of indignation. All was unleashed inside, however, hardly controlled but withheld nonetheless. The grinding of his teeth and whitening knuckles was an obvious sign in itself. Yet Ash tried to keep his cool, muttering a simple but clear response of repugnance.

"You're sick," he snarled.

Again, Gary dismissed him. "Your choice," he waved with a shrug. "If you want to know why your dad left, and perhaps _where_ he is right now, I suggest you start waiting on hand and foot for me till the party. Oh, and if you do decide to go through with this, you can't tell anyone about our deal. Not a _single_ soul."

"What makes you think that I'm going to believe you know anything about my dad leaving?" challenged Ash, not ready to cave in.

"Because you're desperate for answers," he replied easily, leveling Ash with an all-knowing look. "And it'll probably be the only explanation you'll ever get. Your choice, Ashy. Do me a couple of measly favors or let your pride stand in the way of knowing where your dad is. Maybe to even _see_ him again if you're lucky."

To see Jay again in the flesh, to reach up and touch the man's face and hear his name fall from his father's lips... To really know whom he is. It had always been a dream, one in which Ash would have thought to never come true. But now with this possible opportunity... No. No it couldn't be real, could it? It had to be some kind of a bluff. Just a way for Gary to use him so Harper would fall back into the arms of his cousin. There was no secret, there was no unknown source, and yet... That letter. Delia's letter spoke of something suspicious, something both she and Ash took note of but had no verbal exchange about. Jay's desperate wanting to tell them why he left, and then blatantly stating he couldn't. What did that mean? Was someone blackmailing him? Was a knife being pressed against his throat that all he could do to survive was remain silent? Was what he meant by "something" keeping them at an unwanted distance? Did he truly not want to leave home? If anything was answered, Jay was consumed with guilt and an endless craving to reach out to Ash and Delia, to have their help, their support, to have them by his side like before...

He swore.

Jay promised in that letter that one day they'd see each other again. And all they could do was wait. But what if Ash didn't have to wait- what if he _could_ intervene? What if he could bring his dad home? Presently, Ash needed to ask what he could expect of himself. _Could_ he stomach his pride and be at his old rival's beck and call while keeping the agreement solely between them? Could he go against his moral beliefs and be used as a pawn? Could he trust Gary, let down his guard, puzzle others of his actions in helping him, and endlessly pray that an answer to his father's disappearance _was_ concealed behind those troublesome green eyes...? Besides a little degradation and possibly facing agonizing sorrow if Gary was indeed lying... What did Ash honestly have to lose?

_It's something I need to take care of and I don't expect you to understand or accept it. Mostly because I must refrain from telling you..._

Steadily, Ash looked up at Gary.

"When do you want me to talk to Harper?"


	16. These are the Dog Days

**Author's Note:** Hello again my wonderful readers!

I am happy that my beta reader and I were able to publish chapter 16 in a decent time frame. :) Thanks to all who reviewed the last chapter. As always, I enjoyed hearing your positive thoughts long or short! Currently, chapters 17 and 18 are with my beta reader. :D After this chapter, the pace of this story is going to pick up a little. I am still working slowly, but as of late I feel as if I'm getting out of my funk... though, with college now in session, I'm sure I'm going to get tired again. ;p

Also, thank you those who said they understood my need to slow down. I truly appreciate it. :) No worries, I am not giving up on this story! I know EXACTLY how some of you may feel when a story you're reading/enjoying suddenly takes a dramatic halt in updates. I've got a good handful of fics I'M waiting to be updated. ^^; So I totally get it. As I've said before, the only reason this story would stop getting updates if is there's a serious issue going on in my life. As for now, you will be getting updates!

Now please enjoy this new addition!

**DISCLAIMER:** _Pokémon_ belongs to Satoshi Tajri. My oc's belong to me and my vast imagination. ;p

* * *

**Sunlight's Return**

**Chapter 16 **

_"These are the Dog Days"_

All was thought to be resolved once Cassidy and Butch blasted off into the stratosphere.

But it wasn't.

The sun beat down incredibly upon the stranded trainers, the afternoon's hottest rays beginning to creep into the outskirts of Saffron's territory. Combining their efforts, they pulled Jay out of the brush, and returned Tyranitar back to her pokeball until her trainer could wake up and assure her of his security. Jay still lay in a deep sleep, though, leaving Misty and Drake unsure on how to proceed with the weather growing unbearable. They couldn't journey out of the forest, not when their only form of transportation had plummeted to the bottom of a steep cliff and their companion remained unconscious. Inside the battered car was their luggage, the one thankful thing being that the trainers' pokebelts were secured around their waists and all pokeballs were safely accounted for. But they were still in need of the supplies hidden below in the crashed vehicle and overgrown foliage. If they could _retain_ any of it, that was.

Misty aimlessly walked around the area, fighting with her cellphone for a weak signal, in hopes of contacting Brock or Prof. Oak. Eventually, she gave up and clenched her phone tightly as she glared at the screen, indicating the failed signal as if in a taunting manner. "There's no reception out here," announced the redhead, feet scuffing the dirt. Her head tipped upward, eyes meeting the sunlight peeking between thick branches of flourishing leaves. She growled, smearing a streak of sweat off her forehead. "Uggh, of course Team Rocket had to come along and screw up our plans! I could just scream!"

She felt, to say the least, _grimy_. Covered in dirt on her knees and elbows and smelling like the eroded soil of the earth mixing with her own perspiration- on top of everything else, Misty_ really_ wanted to take a shower.

Her bellowing could not be overlooked by Drake. He shared her justifiable frustration, both angered by Team Rocket's endless chase and the result that they perpetuated. He was in the midst of concocting his own rescue mission to retrieve their baggage, and consulted his Venusaur for one more task. But first, the islander sought to reassure a rightfully flustered Misty.

"It's okay, Misty," Drake said warmly, placing a hand on her shoulder. "We'll figure something out." She nodded steadily in return, eyes showing she was surprised but comforted by his touch. "I'll climb down and survey the damage. Just watch Jay for me."

"Okay. Be careful, Drake."

Walking over to the edge, Drake instructed Venusaur to use his vine whips and place them securely around his waist and chest. With a firm tug to proceed, the dinosaur extended his green vines downward, gradually traveling with Drake's feet lightly scraping the unstable rocks along the stony wall. The drop wasn't an extraordinarily lengthy one, but enough for the car to become unusable. That went without question. It was the simple hope that even with the untimely fall, their items inside were still somewhat intact to salvage.

With just a couple more steps, Drake's toes touched the vibrant green bottom, Venusaur's vines easing up once the man landed carefully on ground level. Vines retracted after that, hanging halfway up as the Pokémon observed his master move about. The short path to the car was rigid, rubble of sharp rocks and pebbles mingling with the overgrown layers of slippery grass. A trickle of a stream alerted him that water was close by, as well as the sound of distant Pokémon crooning. Even with a modern highway filled with speeding cars day and night, the forest was still ever so remote from the domestic world of comfort, for the sound of zooming vehicles was faint to the islander's ears.

_We really are stranded, _Drake thought, finally reaching the broken down form of transportation.

Walking on the highway was illegal, and starting up either car was a loss cause. He had tried earlier to reboot Team Rocket's vehicle once finding the keys still in the ignition, but due to the severe damage it could not perform at a safe capacity. And Drake doubted he'd have much luck with Jay's car. It had landed sideways, the position difficult for Drake to fetch all their desired belongings. He didn't dare touch it in fear of it falling, only scanning it to see all the contents inside spilled about. The only answer was for them to locate a main road and walk to the next town or city, which he knew no one would be thrilled about, including himself.

Peering closer into the fogged windows, Drake's attention was cut short by an echoing voice from above.

"Is it bad?" Misty asked, curious eyes looming over the slippery edge as she balanced on her hands and knees.

Drake looked up to the girl, and then continued scanning. "Yeah, it's pretty bad," he replied. "There's no way we can save the car. I just hope Jay had insurance on it."

"What about our stuff?"

"I'll check it out." He clipped off the pokeball dangling from his necklace, tossing the 'ball up with a plan in mind. "C'mon on out, Dragonite!"

The luminous white surge of light unleashed the golden dragon within, his wings beating steadily only a couple of feet off the ground. Dragonite blinked tiredly before looking to Drake, perplexed by the crashed car and the foreign scenery around him.

"Dragonite, I need your help. Can you pull this side of the car back down for me?" Drake gestured.

Large, sturdy, three-toed feet settled gracefully on the grass and approached the wrecked vehicle as ordered without further instructions. Using its mighty strength, Dragonite tipped the vehicle back to its natural position, the object slamming with loud rattles as it weakly stabilized itself. Dragonite winced and panted faintly after exerting some of his innate brutish aptitude, stepping back and earning a loving rub along his cream colored neck from Drake.

"Thanks, Dragonite. You really helped," the trainer praised.

He then walked around the car, heading to the trunk. His fingers hooked around the lever, and as the back end opened, a highly unbearable screech erupted from the parts within, the door loose and frail as it popped open with a wobbly jerk. Drake moved back an inch, hesitant to lunge inside the trunk until he knew the lid wouldn't slam down on his back and neck. Unasked of him, Dragonite intuitively pranced over and held the lid up for Drake, his trainer flashing the dragon a kind, thankful smile before proceeding. All of their bags appeared to be in one piece, though as for the items it was a hard guess. Nonetheless, he began to pull their luggage out.

Still seated and gleaming over the cliff, Misty witnessed her couple of bags being removed, wondering how much damage her personal belongings had suffered. She didn't have much of a chance to wallow in her hypothesized worries, however, for a low groan from behind indicated her someone was now awake. Misty immediately perked up at this, glancing over her shoulder and staring at the hardly moving body of Jay.

"Mr. Ketchum?" she called softly. Another groan emerged with a toss of a head. She rose up and hurriedly fell to his side at the sight of his blue eyes peering open, his breathing shallow as a gentle hand laid itself on his shoulder. "Mr. Ketchum, it's all right," she cooed reassuringly. "It's me. Misty. You're safe now."

"Misty?..."

His voice trailed into an unintelligible question, his nerves shaking as his fuzzy gaze identified his surroundings. A bright blue sky and thriving thick branches full of leaves held his focus, eyes slowly darting up and then to each side. Where was he? Had something happened? _Of course_ something happened, there was no doubt in his mind after realizing that Bulbasaur at the motel's doorstep was nothing but a hoax. Team Rocket's doing, the master assumed, which would explain why Misty claimed he was safe, that the criminals were long gone, and that they were no longer in the city limits... But how_ did_ they get here? Hurting shoulders and a cramped neck tried to raise Jay up, his elbows propped on the grass as Misty's hand met his upper back for support. He leaned forward using his strong defined abdomens, curling up with hands pressed to the side as he sat next to Misty.

"Where's Drake?" Jay asked in a dreary breath. "What happened?"

"Drake's um-" She strayed her gaze away momentarily, back over to the daunting edge. Misty didn't expect Jay to take the devastating news easily, nor was she prepared to announce Team Rocket had uncovered her and Drake's identities. Regardless of the less than pleasant delivery of hapless events, the girl tried to work through her tongue-tied words. "You see," swallowed Misty, eyes shifting again between Jay and the cliff. "Team Rocket, well, they um- kidnapped you and we were able to defeat them in a battle. But the result..."

"What was the result?"

The words couldn't come to her. Not with how Jay was looking at her with such foreboding worries, anticipating the worst as he read through her avoidance of eye contact and movement of stuttering lips. No more was needed to be said for Jay to understand, his back arching, his icy eyes becoming expressive as the sleepy haze began to melt away. For a second, he glanced to the side, and as to what he was thinking Misty could not tell. She watched him attentively through the silence, her focus following him as he got up from his crouched position. His balance teetered at first, Misty instantly bringing a hand to his back and one to his chest. He quietly appreciated her aid, and assured her with a nod that he was composed enough to walk on his own. The gym leader followed him despite the fact, hurriedly pacing beside him as he journeyed to the cliff. From the corner of his eye, Jay observed the redhead's diligence to keep up with him, the croaking of her voice faint to his ear as he froze inches from the very tip of the crumbling ledge.

He saw. He saw the wreckage.

Anxious sea-green eyes locked onto the master, watching Jay's face contort into one she had not seen before. Shock sunk deep within Jay's bones, his mouth agape as he stared at his destroyed car below. His awoken presence alerted Drake to meet his brother's eyes as he held a handful of bags, also at a loss to explain the situation. After all, the sight spoke for itself. With a pounding chest and a reeling mind, a stunted moan fell from his lips, his face ridden with astonishment. He pivoted his hips to the side, his head hanging low as he silently processed it all. Gulping nervously, Misty continued to study Jay, from his scrunching of eyes, to rubbing vigorously of his face, to a sudden kicking to the ground with a furious foot. Infuriated curses were grumbled soon after, the hissing of his anger growing louder with rightful frustration. She said nothing, though, in reply, and allowed Ash's father to continue spouting off, seeing it wasn't directed at her. The connection of loss, of pure disappointment that they were on the right track up until this point, that they were _so close_ to making it to Cerulean without any complications, and then-

Misty could sense all of that within Jay, and couldn't blame him for unleashing such displeasure. His mild tantrum didn't last long in her presence, however, for he stomped off and decided to sulk in his own misery. She could sense Jay was holding himself back from completely lashing out, from his desire to wring the criminals' necks, from demanding how in the world his _only_ form of transportation had been shoved _off_ a cliff and_ demolished_,_ the_ fastest way he could reach his family-

Sympathetic eyes peered over the drop again, meeting Drake's.

No one was at ease.

* * *

Ash couldn't help but brood.

Happiness had blossomed across Delia's complexion after hearing Ash announce he had "made amends" with Gary. Lying left an unpleasant taste in his mouth, and his heart filtered with guilt and reconsideration. _Should_ he have made a deal with Gary? Was it _really_ all worth it? Lasting numerous days until the bash, keeping his reasoning for serving Gary a secret, without telling Brock or Dani...or Delia? Ash believed he could risk it, then he contradicted himself with another more _rational_ point. He was torn, and fought his inner afflictions up until their dinner plates had been licked clean and loaded in the dishwasher.

Others in the household retired for the evening after kitchen duty, Brock grabbing a towel and a set of pajamas as he strolled off to the bathroom, and Delia attending to Prof. Oak's houseplant, which was in the beginning stage of thriving. As for Ash, there was desperation to get his mind on something else. T.V. being the most resourceful, accessible distraction, only there wasn't anything on that the teenager found engaging. The report of a car chase along the highway to Lavender Town was about all that was remotely interesting, though it wasn't enough for Ash. He was uninterested in the report, that the police failed to identify the drivers or the license plates, and so he shut the flashing box off in a huff. From there, he dragged his feet up the flight of stairs and wandered into his bedroom with a firm closing of the door. His body leaned back on the wood for support, slumped depressingly as he looked to Pikachu, who was perched on his desk and savoring the night air the open window provided. There was no humanly possible way for Ash to keep his lips sealed and throw away the key. He_ had_ to tell someone... And someone who ran on all fours and had yellow fur_ could_ suffice. Pokémon couldn't speak the complexity of human language and if there was anyone in the world Ash could forever count on, it was his little buddy of six years beaming a bright smile in his direction.

"Oh man, Pikachu...did I ever get myself into a fix," mumbled Ash, finally lifting himself off the door.

Pikachu's ears perked up, following his trainer as Ash flopped down in his chair. He placed his elbow on the desk, fingers loosely combing and scratching the yellow mouse behind the ear. A sigh rang from the teenager's mouth, dreary chocolate eyes looking out to the setting sun.

"I just- couldn't refuse, you know? I mean, Gary said he _has_ information about where Dad is. How could I just walk away? He could be lying; probably _is_ lying, but still...there's just that small bit of hope that- I can't let it die out just yet.

"But now I have to do stuff for Gary till the party at the inn. And you know how many days that is? _Fourteen _days," Ash empathized, shaking his head, horrified after hearing the number fall from his own lips. "Fourteen days I have to wait on Gary 'hand and foot' and do whatever stupid stuff he wants. Uggh, why did I say yes?!" he soon bellowed, rubbing his face in aggravation. "God only knows the embarrassing things he'll ask me to do! And to make it worse, he also wants me to apologize to Harper and get her to come to the party. Me. _Me_! Why should I have to apologize to her? I did nothing to hurt her! _He_ did by acting like a complete jackass!-"

Meeting the deeply concerned and muddled eyes of Pikachu, Ash's hollering dropped. There was no expectation for Pikachu to comprehend, only there for a listening ear and someone to coach him between distinct chatters Ash believed he could interpret. Like they always had through rough times on the road- and _stayed_ on the road. Not here. Not at home in their own sanctuary of family and close friends, of miles and miles of gold and green fields, of blossoming trees and secret hideaways filled with native Pokémon...

Not where it all began.

The possibility, Ash supposed once more- the _crazy_ possibility in that this unforeseen twist _could_ hold the truth about his father and_ could_ bring them back together.

So they could start a new beginning. All over again.

It was a once in a lifetime shot. The only one that had ever been offered to Ash. No one gave him an inkling to his father's whereabouts, and then, out of the blue, a clue was dropped at his feet. So maybe he was desperate as Gary said. Maybe he had grown tired and doubtful after ten years of separation. After all, it seemed everyone else simply moved on and_ insisted_ to forget about Jay. Though Ash knew that was easier said than done. And then there was Delia... Someone Ash had difficulty reading at times. Ash was certain, without question, that his mother still had feelings for his dad, but as to the degree of those romantic feelings...it was hard to say. In all truth, Delia had confessed to loving Jay to Ash, that in many moments she couldn't get him off her mind, that he still held a very special and exclusive place in her warm heart. And then, there was a glimmer of resistance in Delia. That this strong, independent, and heartbroken woman felt protected when keeping herself at arm's length from any chance of new affection. As if insinuating that while she loved Jay, she was now content without him, that she could go on without falling to pieces...

The thought of his mom almost made Ash chuckle sarcastically, realizing defending her against Gary was what brought him to this troublesome point. How he had to apologize to his old rival, after Delia's adamant insisting that she didn't need him to protect her. That she didn't need anyone _anymore_ to shield her from pain when she was too weak to do it herself... If there was one thing Ash and Delia could agree upon on the topic, it was that they both suffered from broken hearts and were now recovering. Recovering quite well, Ash thought, but with his parents' anniversary, the recent development of Gary claiming he had the long lost answers, to unhinge the puzzling questions that had been raised from their desolate sleep- Ash didn't want to wonder any longer. He didn't want to assume.

He just wanted the truth.

"Pika, Pikachu..."

Exhaling a heavy breath through his nostrils, Ash relaxed his tensed muscles and soothed his mouse again with another loving pat. "I'm sorry, Pikachu," he said genuinely, easing the creature's cooing. "I'm just so confused. I want to know why Dad left, and I would _really_ like to see him again... but I don't- _I don't_..."

A choke was lodged in the back of his throat, struggling to finish his sentence. Taking the back of his hand, Ash smeared the start of tears and stifled a sniffle from his nose. Frustration was burning tears in his eyes, tears that he fought to release. Foolish, addled, indecisive- all those feelings were jumbled within his bewildered head and yearning heart. Jay's absence hadn't stopped Ash from living, hadn't prevented the young man from achieving the great heights he had made as a trainer and overall person. He had survived the turmoil at a young age, and persevered to prove and morph into an amiable and spirited person with good intentions. So why? If he had gone on this long with just one parent why did he need to know now? Why did he need the closure?

Why did he need to see him?

The answer Ash knew, yet he didn't at the same time. Instantly, with emotions clouded in his judgement, finding Jay seemed worth all of Gary's ludicrous antics and harassment. But an impending fear of what the result may be persisted, lurking around the corners of his hopeful, bright mind, a dark shadow of dejection consuming the glimmer of light glowing from the father Ash remembered.

"Making this deal with Gary," Ash began to muse slowly, "believing him- did I do the right thing Pikachu?... Or am too hopeful?"

Anxiety and smoldering restlessness was sensed through Ash's movements and fluctuation of voice. Pikachu recognized the inner struggle, standing on his back legs with a worried frown. "Pika, pika..." he replied softly, an edginess of sympathy to his cry.

He didn't need to be reminded that Pikachu couldn't communicate perfectly with him, and mostly observed his beloved trainer was going through a rough patch. Key words of "Gary" and "Dad" Ash thought Pikachu might pick up, but supposed the connotation was too deep given the fact that he was a Pokémon and that the mouse wasn't present when both of the altercations transpired.

Before any more outer dialogue could ensue, Brock abruptly waltzed into the bedroom. He smiled, unbeknownst to Ash's tribulations, dressed in his pajamas with wet hair and a damp white towel draped about his neck.

"Hey, sorry it took me a while," he started, closing the door. "The shower's all yours."

Behind his grin lay the reason for his extra time in the shower. He had brushed his teeth as one would've expected, but he also made a phone call to Misty in which all he got was her voicemail. He had intentions of informing her of Prof. Oak's plans and concerns given their timeline, and found it odd she didn't pick up. Admitting he was a touch overly worried of Misty's safety was plausible, and Brock tried to tell himself that all was secure by assuming a logical explanation as to why she wasn't answering. Perhaps Misty was already asleep, snoozing in the back of the car to Cerulean City. Or she was now getting dinner with Jay and Drake, a noisy restaurant blocking the ringing of her cellphone….

So he decided he'd try again in the morning.

Also ignorant to Brock's own secrets, Ash wasn't left to believe his friend's actions were suspicious; the continual reflecting upon his choices infiltrating his flustered mind instead. In return, he gave Brock a measly glance, dismissing his apology. "No, you're fine, Brock."

On any other day Brock would have taken Ash's words as nothing and left at that. But something questionable in Ash's tone convinced the young man his friend wasn't feeling like himself.

Unsure eyes bounced from each side of the room, then carried about as if all was fine. "So uh, dinner was great, wasn't it?" Brock began again, crashing onto the bottom bunk of Ash's bed. "Your mom makes a mean chef's salad!"

"Yeah, it was okay."

_Okay?_ Delia's dinners were always beyond exceptional in Ash's eyes. Never just an average "okay" that could simply suffice his taste buds and hunger pains adequately. Even at that, Brock urged himself that he was reading into things _again_; seeing Ash being moody on occasion wasn't anything out of the norm. He had to go apologize to Gary today for an unexplained reason, which was likely the source of his sourness. Still, Gary wasn't with them, and Delia hadn't asked her son do to any extra chores before going to bed, allowing him and Brock to hang out for the rest of the evening.

So what was the problem?

"Hey, I uh, never got to tell you about Prof. Oak's research," the Pokémon doctor in-the-making brought up. "_Still_ wanna know about Ho-Oh?"

A definite yes wanted to leap from Ash's mouth, however he refrained his enthusiastic self from doing such. Given he had lied to Delia and now had permitted Gary to dig a deeper hole that would take persistence and humility before he could pull himself out of it, Ash didn't think he deserved to indulge in any sort of Pokémon phenomenon. The culpability was simply too much, so he punished himself for it.

Squirming in his seat, Ash's eyes dashed to the floor. "...Not really."

Brock's jaw fell open. "You_ don't_?"

"Well I do, but- no. At least not right now," he shrugged.

Sadly, his response was too doubtful and lame to be believed. Ash could see the unconvincing glimmer Brock bore, and hurriedly got up to distract the all-knowing breeder. "Why don't we watch a movie or something? I've got a bunch of action/thrillers," the dark-haired teenager suggested, trying to put on a small smile.

Brock's stoic expression stayed the same. He said no. _No?_ This morning, Ash was practically _begging_ his mom to accompany Brock, making him dreamed up excuses involving medical tools for Ash not to come along. And now he suddenly lost interest in the legendary that was sparking his curious nature with undeniable excitement? Besides feeling relieved in regards to the fact that Brock had little to share about the phoenix anyway, and the clarification from Prof. Oak pertaining to his white-lie to keep Ash out of the loop... This reaction wasn't like Ash. Anyone who knew him for more than a week could tell him not jumping at the chance to learn something riveting about Pokémon was severely out of character. It wasn't a form of maturity regarding his impulsive tendencies. The obvious frown and depressed eyes was a declaration in itself in that Ash was trying to hide his brewing troubles.

Cutting to the chase, Brock rose off of the bed and approached him. "Ash, did something happen between you and Gary today?"

"No," Ash quickly answered, crouched down as he was shuffling through some DVDs.

"You just seem kinda uneasy. Did he say something to upset you?"

"Well, it's Gary, so yeah," Ash couldn't resist snorting. Afterwards, though, he recognized the bite in his tone and immediately softened his words. He had no intentions of taking his anger out on Brock. It was the fact that _Gary_ wasn't there to be a convenient punching-bag for him. "But it's not a big deal, Brock. I guess I'm just still- annoyed by him. And tired. _Really_, I'm okay."

The delivery of assurance was hardly compelling, and Brock wondered how many more questions he'd have to throw out before he'd get a solid answer. In doing so, he feared the interrogation would irritate Ash more so than illustrate a voice of concern. Ash tended to get defensive at times, especially when something was eating at him. And knowing his young friend, Brock figured Ash would come clean eventually or blow off enough steam to move on from whatever silent trouble was pestering him. And if not...

"All right," Brock caved in. However, he still held a watchful eye, which called for Ash's attention without a single command. "But if something's bothering you, you know you can always come to me, right?"

A flash of a faint smile appeared, almost bleak if one looked closely. Then, Ash looked down at the DVDs in his grasp. "I know, Brock."

Of course he knew. And he was forever thankful that he had the option of seeking his companion out for wise counseling. But tragically in this case, Ash couldn't go to dear big brother Brock for advice.

* * *

Something about the quietness of the halls of Headquarters soothed Giovanni's fiery nerves.

It discreetly meant everything was order. Commands being followed, grunts reporting to their duties and executing them flawlessly. At least, that was the outcome he envisioned when he first took over his mother's organization. Now the quietness just ceased the endless ringing in his ears, but did nothing in easing his doubts concerning _some_ incompetent agents.

The long hallway led to his office at the end, though before retiring for the evening hours, the crime boss stopped at his receptionist's counter with briefcase in tow.

"Any reports?" asked Giovanni.

Her typing spree ended with a final click, her glass-frames reflecting against the gloomy light above as she flashed her gaze up at him. "You have a message in your office, sir," she declared blandly.

"From who?"

"From top agents Cassidy and Butch. They called in regards to _Project H_."

It was about time he heard from them! Without bothering to thank his receptionist for the message, Giovanni wandered to his office and locked the door for privacy. The same mundane routine was followed through from there: Giovanni stroked his prized Persian down the back, took notice that a selected agent had remembered to feed the feline, popped open a nicely chilled bottle of red wine, and grabbed a sparkling clean glass. The rich, red liquid hit the wineglass without a single drop splattering. Then, Giovanni raised the glass at eye level, mindlessly swishing the contents inside. His cold, hard, and dark eyes contemplated through tainted glass, then proceeded to swallow an immense gulp, to wash away the anticipation bubbling inside his large toned frame.

Sitting down at his desk, he logged onto his computer, and in very little time, a video screen displayed itself on the desktop monitor. He waited patiently for a moment, sending the signal to Cassidy and Butch who, eventually, turned on their device to communicate virtually with him. The two agents saluted their boss, and then huddled around the small window of communication, seeing the device that was given to them was of a handheld size.

"What do you have to report?" Giovanni questioned, the half-drunken alcoholic beverage resting in his grasp.

They both looked to each other first, silently contemplating who should be the one to fill their employer in on the devastating news. If only they hadn't been so compulsive in calling Giovanni until they were _at least_ at the secret base in Lavender Town! Nonetheless, the grunts had to make their announcement, for their boss was already wrinkling his forehead impatiently.

Adjusting his throat and praying to whatever holy being above, Butch took the plunge and began. "Well you see sir, we uh- we nabbed Ketchum."

Giovanni's eyes widened, a gasp caught in the back of his throat. Could it be? Had Jayce Ketchum at last been captured, could he_ finally_ execute his long desired plan?

"_Really_? Where is he? I want him sent over here immediately!"

Nervous about his boss's enthusiasm turning to rage, Butch bit down on his lip. Trailing eyes glanced to Cassidy and received a simple nod for him to proceed. Why did_ he_ have to handle all the dirty work? He was the one driving them all over creation and now _he_ had to let down Giovanni and possibly risk being sacked? Life wasn't fair!

Breathing in a steady inhale, Butch's eyes wandered elsewhere to avoid the burning fury that was about to ignite. "That's the thing, sir, we kind of, well...lost him."

If there was a minuscule, bright glistening in Giovanni's shady eyes, it was blown out before it had a chance to fully shine. His grip on the wineglass tightened dramatically, his tone baring a _heavily_ disgruntled note as he spat the disappointing words out in disgust. "What do you mean you_ lost_ him?" he hissed sharply.

"We were followed, sir," Cassidy intervened calmly, easing her partner on his poor pounding chest. "Thanks to his recruits. And we have identifications on both trainers-"

"You think that matters now?! Do you think that cushions the fact that you two let Ketchum get away?!"

Reacting to the lashing of hollers, the Team Rocket agents lunged back, acting as if their furious employer could emerge out of the screen and pull the collars of their uniforms with his two whitening fists. Giovanni's expression darkened dramatically, the sound of shattering glass on the floor discordant with the sudden yowl from a spooked Persian and the man's overall yells of wrath. So close. _So close_ Cassidy and Butch were, and they had failed him...again. Comparing their successes to their failures, Giovanni would have expected for them to execute the task in a timely and skillful manner. He didn't want any excuses; he didn't even care to hear how they somehow lost Ketchum. Relaying such details would only further his intensifying headache.

Steadily, the agents approached the screen once more, Cassidy speedily trying to remedy the situation. "No, sir! We thought no such thing! But we do find it imperative to address that Ketchum has the Orange Crew Leader and the Cerulean gym leader working with him-"

"Did you say Orange Crew Leader?"

The volume of his voice had dropped significantly, catching Cassidy by surprise as she blinked into the screen. "Yes, why?"

Ten years ago...the horrific obliteration on the boat, the agents he had lost at Ketchum's hand and the unidentified boy... The young man Giovanni's target had randomly taken a trip to visit- or maybe, his little vacation to the popular sunny beaches wasn't as innocent as one would suspect at first glimpse. Ketchum had some kind of agenda all along. Another ally perhaps? Brimble would need to be brought in, the most recently retired survivor of the accident, the one who could possibly from memory recall if the Orange Crew Leader _was_ that very boy. But one question stumped the crime boss: why him? What relation did Ketchum have to him?

_You've played our little game well, Jayce. Hiding this young man from my knowledge all this time while he has helped you in the shadows... He must mean something to you then. Someone who can aid you. Someone you can trust. Someone else you wish to protect..._

Lips creating a faint, malicious grin against the dimming light, Giovanni's muscled form leaned back in his seat as he silently humored himself with his thoughts. So Ketchum had been deceiving him. None of which was completely surprising. With that silly Prof. Acorn constantly coaching him, Giovanni could imagine another ally was slinking around undetected. Now it was only a matter of time before Giovanni discovered how they were connected, and with every method necessary he would...

Folded hands were placed in front of him on the desk as the criminal leaned forward. His face was fixed with a serious expression again, his conniving grin fading as he translated his pensive thoughts to his anxious grunts. "While what you have uncovered is beneficial, don't expect me to be pleased with your disobedience. Unfortunately, due to your rashness, I have already assigned two other agents to this mission."

Cassidy was the first to gawk, blurting out in stupefaction before Butch had the opportunity to react. "New agents!" she shouted, befuddled. "Who?"

"Agents Jessie and James have been instructed to kidnap Ketchum's family, to give him an incentive to come willingly. I had no other choice. You had already failed me twice and delayed contacting me when told to. Unless- you can prove yourself one last time and bring Ketchum in. Though apparently," he snorted, "that seems to be a stretch for you two."

"No sir, we can!" the female agent rebutted desperately. "We'll do anything to prove to you we're worthy agents!"

A moment of consideration was taken in. Cassidy and Butch's spiked nerves soaring as they waited for a response. Giovanni's lips bore a definite thin frown as he was in the midst of making a proposal. A proposal neither one could predict with such precision and derisiveness in a fast amount of time. His expression had not shifted, more so his posture as the criminal leaned forward, his inky eyes magnifying under the screen's light.

"Then do this for me," Giovanni finally declared, a minor crease emerging from his forehead. "Given how tricky he is to catch, bring Ketchum back here at the end of the next two weeks, or I will give the reward I promised you to those bumbling fools instead- _if_ they execute their half successfully. Send your recruited grunts out first to dispose of his comrades. They're trained combatants; give them the orders and let them take charge. I want Ketchum to suffer as many blows as he _rightfully_ deserves. Make him witness what loss he's cost over sparing his own life. Then, when you at last have him cornered, all alone and vulnerable, lure him here with the grand announcement of me getting acquainted with his precious family right here in_ my_ domain. I'm sure you'll have _no_ trouble bringing him back to Headquarters with that little surprise."

Most of the order was heard and soaked in effectively by Butch; his thought process, however, was beginning to cloud with certain elements of the mission. A specific definition he felt he needed clarification on. "Uh, sir?" the make grunt piped up, adjusting his throat awkwardly. "Just one thing: how do you want us to um- 'dispose' of Ketchum's recruits?"

A sneer formed with a huff. "Hang them, shoot them, drown them, stab them, push them off a cliff, blow them up with a hyper beam- I don't care how you do it! That's for you to figure out!" he bellowed in an exasperated tone. "As long as you make sure they're _dead_ it doesn't matter. Ketchum has obviously had a higher chance of escaping with those two lagging behind him, and while they're alive they'll keep running unscathed. And considering the entire trauma he has faced, I'm sure whatever condition of PTSD he's carrying will send him through the roof! Do you understand_ exactly_ what I am asking of you?"

"Yes, sir!" Cassidy replied promptly, her arms stiff at her sides.

"We understand one-hundred percent!" added Butch.

"Very well. Until then-" It seemed as if the conversation was about to wrap up. That is, until Giovanni paused, morphing another intimidating expression through piercing eyes and crinkled lines upon his complexion. His voice bathed in a vicious bite of impending doom as he started oh so casually. "Oh, and one last piece of advice. I suggest you lay out your next plan of attack _carefully._ Do_ not _disappoint me."

Darkness claimed the screen with a quick flash, Cassidy's rigid fingers holding the device as she stared into it. She appeared absolutely shell-shocked, and it took her a couple of seconds before her voice rose with a loud shriek of distress. "The boss has lost his mind! Recruiting Jessie and her squad of morons! How could he do this?! Practically shames us and praises them?! What kind of sick cruelty is this?!"

Butch's shoulders were slumped, his gaze wandering off into the distance as he mumbled. "Actually I'd prefer this over his screaming-"

"I didn't ask for your preference, Biff!" she spat back, her fist tightly clenching the device as she raised both hands in the air. "Damn Ketchum! Damn them all!" she yelled, looking up with grinding teeth. "How _dare_ I be treated unworthy an agent compared to that spineless, stubborn, cocky, obnoxious, and lack of a fashion sense Jessie! This cannot be happening to me!"

This couldn't be happening to_ her_? Is that all Cassidy was thinking about? Her self-esteem, pride, and ludicrous rivalry with fellow Team Rocket agent Jessie? For Butch, he had a much more pressing and bothersome thought on his mind. One in which he had difficulty taking as any other typical order.

Cocking his gaze back at her, the male grunt gave his partner a mild solemn look. "That's all you're thinking about? What about the_ disposing_ the boss asked of us?"

It was right then and there that Cassidy's eyes at last softened, quietly rebuking her own words for neglecting the more irksome detail. To dispose of two lives, two highly acclaimed trainers... Their murders would make the world quake with hysteria, and knowing it was by their hands... Cassidy and Butch were hired to be Pokémon nappers. To collect rare or common creatures for testing and experimental purposes; to gain more battlers, to sell on the black market for profit. Exploiting Pokémon for Giovanni's own personal profit. Never in their contract did it say they were instructed to kill, and if it was it must have been in the fine print. Not that Cassidy hadn't ever heard of agents killing others before, Pokémon or people by their own will or by Giovanni's order, but still...she was admittedly- unsettled by the command. Much like Butch. Though this uncertainty to brutally wound would go against their honor as legitimate criminals. They were supposed to be prepared to take on any demanding task, thrive off the thrill that danger always brought just like the car chase earlier that morning. One that could have cost Misty and Drake their lives in the speeding and shooting alone... Realizing this, Cassidy felt all the more dubious of her beliefs, struggling to understand the timid thoughts raging in her head, the separation of barbarity from business. True, they wouldn't be the ones executing the assassinations, but to instruct and allow it to happen before their very eyes...

Once shutting off his computer, determined but evenly paced footsteps left Giovanni's office and meandered back to his secretary's station. He had full intentions of calling it a night with Persian by his side, however the latest piece of information his agents covered needed to be examined. And he certainly couldn't sleep without at least giving his next order of business out.

"I need you to run an identification search," he said, standing before the large desk.

"Of who, sir?" the young woman asked. She appeared to be closing down for the evening herself, but apparently could not. If she had any disappointment of not hitting the sack at her usual hour, it wasn't shown in her tone or expression.

"Look up any records regarding the Orange Crew Leader," Giovanni mandated, the eagerness to discover the truth dancing off his tongue. "I have an aching suspicion he shares a close relation to Ketchum."

And his secretary could tell with a steady nod.

"Very well, sir. I will get on that immediately."

* * *

Crackles of ashes sparked against the moonlight's pure glow.

The fire Vulpix started with a single puff burned continuously, Jay and Drake contributing additional wood to keep the flames alive. To ease Tyranitar of her trainer's condition, Jay unleashed the giant beast and allowed her to slumber near them, her presence alone scaring off any possible threats lurking in the shadows of the night. From what he could salvage from his backpack, Drake cooked up some of the emergency non-refrigerated food. Their meal mainly consisted of oatmeal, which, while it had raisins and nuts for nutrition, lacked the sugar rush the trainers were craving. All fell relatively quiet around the campfire, the sound of refilling spoons hitting plastic bowls blending with the crepitating air. No one was pleased with the outcome of the day, their expressions showing such devastation across each face.

Full details were relayed to Jay on the earlier happenings involving Cassidy and Butch's attempted kidnapping of him. He sat stoically and listened, his poker face pristine with every feature, and because of that, Misty couldn't decipher what was going through his head, his overall reaction. Drake elucidated that he was knocked out, went about the car chase, to the battle, to the _loss _of the car, to the _lack _of phone reception, and the irony that they were off their course to Cerulean City. Every piece of news made his face stiffer, the anger of everything being shot to hell boiling inside the already sensitive man. After walking on pins and needles for so long, it was any wonder Jay hadn't exploded like an atomic bomb. To fathom what he felt daily, what he had to do to survive, how he had to feed off hope to keep moving forward...he had every right to snap, considering how far they had come just from Fuchsia.

Regardless of the less than fortunate turnout, the trainers needed to formulate a plan.

The limp spoon in Drake's grip dipped itself into the contents of the mushy dinner, but splashed back into the bowl as the remnants trickled off the silverware. He then followed with a heavy breath through his nostrils, the bowl being placed to the side. "Team Rocket has thrown us off our entire course," he said in a huff, eyes shifting to his brother. "What do we do?"

Jay glared coldly into his hardly touched meal with Vulpix quietly curled up at his feet. "At this rate, it'll take us far too long to get to Cerulean. We'd have to trek back through Saffron, but considering we're far out in the forest... We're better off just heading to Lavender Town," he decided. "We can fly over if need be with Dragonite and Flygon."

"You have a Flygon?" piped up Misty, her spoon sitting in midair in her grasp.

"Yeah. I switched him out while I was still at the center. And evidently, it was a good thing I did."

Having two flying Pokémon in their arsenal, dragon types to boot, should have ensured a safe trip to Lavender Town. The map Drake had was tragically somewhat tattered, and taking the route to Lavender Town instead of Cerulean City meant a longer journey to their ultimate destination. Pulling themselves up by their boot straps, the trainers would just have to cope and strive through their unpredicted circumstance.

"That's all well and good, but we still have a problem, though, in that there's no reception out here," pointed out Drake blatantly. "What will Sam and Brock think when we're not answering?"

"Sam and I haven't always had constant communication, so I don't think he'd be surprised if he didn't hear from us right away," Jay shrugged, somewhat unmoved by his brother's worries. "Then again with everything drawing so close...we'll just have to get to Lavender Town as fast as possible. And_ if_ luck is on our side for once, Team Rocket _won't_ show up and Sam won't lose his marbles thinking something has happened to us."

That was ignorant, wishful thinking.

Jay knew his hopes were out of reach, but as usual he couldn't allow himself to go off in a tirade of panic. With Misty right there, someone just beginning to understand life's complications at a delicate stage, he didn't want to, well...scare her. Not that she wasn't tough, or hadn't been scared enough. But whatever subtle peace of mind Jay could give her he would. Besides, what would dreaming up the worst possible conclusion do anyway? It would cause more harm than good. And surprisingly, Drake found it difficult to argue his brother's reply. Avoiding Team Rocket and stirring trepidation within Prof. Oak was inevitable, yet in this instance there was no way to intervene before chaos broke out. They were stranded. That was a fact. They had lost some supplies, as well as helpful tools of communication and transportation. They had to make do and travel the old-fashioned way. The way the three trainers once traveled earlier in their lives.

Walk or fly if accessible.

As for Misty herself, she silently concurred with both men. While they didn't converse openly, her thoughts were on a similar line, except she had her own concerns. Not about Prof. Oak but Brock. Misty's friend had been adamant about her calling often so they could keep in touch, so Brock was assured she was safe even though she was facing immediate dangers continuously. She couldn't find fault with his genuine big-brother worries due to the legitimacy of his care, but Misty was jittery in that if they didn't reach the next town soon, Brock would be the one jumping to conclusions, more so than Prof. Oak.

If anything, the professor could _hopefully_ ease the young man's frets.

Suddenly out of nowhere, a distant muffled cry of a Pokémon in the woods spooked the three quiet trainers and Vulpix. They perked up and looked about, as if listening for the sound's origin. Then, also startled, the watchful Tyranitar raised her head, a response seeping into a quiet snarl as her eyes looked off into the dark tree line.

Jay peered over his shoulder at this, witnessing the intensity of her growls as they persisted. "Shush, shush. It's okay," the man immediately soothed, his words eventually earning the Pokémon's eyesight. The hypersensitive creature glanced at him with calmer eyes, her neck stretched out as her head came near his. "It's _oookay. _It's nothing to get excited about," Jay continued to breathe gently, earning a closer touch of the dinosaur's snout by the rubbing of his hand. "You did good today, girl. Stopping those bad guys for me, huh?"

In return to the pacifying, Tyranitar reacted positively, easing her tense muscles and indulging in the warm stroke across the snout. Unable to tear her gaze away, Misty watched the scene unfold in amazement. Jay was such a natural with his Pokémon. Even with ones who had strong personalities, who needed extra guidance and attention, he gave it his all. And she didn't have to see his progression with Tyranitar to believe such. It was in his voice, his eyes, in the creature's behavior. Throughout her subtle studying of him in the short amount of time she knew the man, she could tell how simply comfortable and intuitive he was with his Pokémon.

The one thing that peeled back a layer of distance, and made Jay seem less enigmatic and so much more...human.

"It's incredible," commented Misty softly in astonishment. "How you got her to be so calm so quickly."

"She just needs a firm but loving hand," Jay replied, gradually ending his pats as Tyranitar was comforted enough to return to her lounging post.

Misty twisted her mouth after that, her curiosity fighting her polite nature not to pry. Seeing this side of Ash's father propelled the girl to persist the conversation, not only wanting to get a closer look at who Jayce Ketchum was...but to get some answers that had stumped her earlier, questions regarding the temperamental dinosaur.

And with slight hesitation, she did just that. "If you don't mind me asking-" she swallowed for a moment, finally flashing her eyes up at him. "Why is she so...big?"

Jay took notice of the gesture Misty made to Tyranitar, replying with a touch of seriousness glazing over his eyes. "She was experimented on by Team Rocket. They were trying to advance evolution through growth hormones and injections to boost the power of a Pokémon's natural abilities, outer and inner. Eventually, when she evolved she became so strong she broke out of their secret lab on the outskirts of Violet City, leaving me to capture her. She put up one heck of a fight- tried to chase me down and make me a _meal_ in the process. Even at that...I couldn't let Team Rocket corral her."

Drake wanted to jump in on the conversation, intrigued by his brother's story. During the arbitrary calls Jay would once in a blue moon give him, the islander never received such talk of the day as hunting down an overgrown dinosaur who found its new trainer to be its dinner. Clearly, Jay chose wisely about what dangerous events he decided to elaborate to his brother or Drake would most likely be insisting he stopped before he got himself killed.

"Do you always pick up charity cases? Hopefully not many who look at you like a piece of meat?" Drake threw in cheekily, all in a kidding manner as he managed a tiny grin.

"Kind of," Jay huffed dryly, subconsciously recognizing his brother's remark as true. "My Mightyena was owned by a Team Magma grunt, and because he was so defiant by nature they abused him into obeying them. But he wouldn't submit, so they just turned him loose. He seemed to hate any human contact after that. They dumped him in an area of Hoenn that was unnatural to him, so I kind of followed him close to two weeks, and well...I more so adopted him than he did me."

"So you took care of him?" inquired Misty as she hugged her knees.

"Yep. Once I got him to trust me to the point where he'd only bite me_ three times_ a day, I was able to successfully catch him. Since then, it's been a slow process with us. A trust exercise every day."

"Is he still leery?"

"I think he'll always be to a degree. Given the circumstances he was under. But he's come out of it a lot over the past few years. Now he just nips my ankles on occasion."

_Nips _only_ on occasion? How endearing, _Drake thought. He couldn't help but smile, though. Taking on tough cases of Pokémon in need was difficult, and he could speak from experience. Most typical trainers would throw in the towel under the extreme pressure. Then there was Jay, charging into the impossible with a quiet morality of kindness. It was admirable. Noble in a sense.

"Any other misfits we should be aware of on the off-chance you're unconscious _again _and we have to pick from a selection that won't potentially eat or bite us?" Drake asked as he leaned back on his hands, his playfulness in the question evident to Jay.

"Rest assured, I don't think the other 'misfits' would look at you like you're piece of steak," Jay rebutted, appearing to loosen up a bit. "To give you the run down, my Stantler was hit by a car so after nursing his broken left front leg back to health, I got attached to him. Then I found my Mewostic in a box abandoned in an alley in Lumiose City. She was only an Espurr at the time and she was malnourished so I fed her with milk formula…using an eye-drop. At that time, I was scraping by for money.

"I never have really considered myself a cat person- but she's changed me," he said, a smile flashing as his eyes gently gleamed into the vibrant fire. "She has a quiet yet feisty spirit about her...and she likes to cuddle."

If Misty's heart had the capability of melting, she thought it did in that instance. This much softer, more compassionate smile behind the stoic pair of eyes that hid behind a world of pain brought warmth to the redhead's chest. Jay was more than she expected. She saw what Delia must have saw in the man years ago, and being the true romantic she was, Misty wanted the woman to be there to hear him, to witness that he was still what she presumed Delia believed him to be. He truly was the other half of what made Ash the genuine person he was. Why she cherished Ash as her friend, deeper, unlike anyone else... The person sitting near her was more than just a Pokémon Master- he was a real man. A trainer she could relate to, who wasn't out for the fame or glory training could bring. A trainer who fought against the odds to prove nothing but that he simply...cared. That he wasn't made of stone, that Team Rocket and the loneliness of the road hadn't hardened him to the point where he was incapable of feeling anymore. He felt more because of his dilemmas, more than he could bear. And even when he lost everything else, he still had enough love in his heart for his Pokémon. To still give.

Because, like them, he knew what it felt like to suffer. And with the right mindset, flourish from it.

Misty shot Jay a grin, then looked back down to her feet, expressing her own similar recounts. "I know what you mean about warming up to unlikely Pokémon. After I finished traveling with Ash and Brock, I returned to the gym and had to confront an out of control Gyarados my sisters had. I was afraid of it- Actually, I was _afraid _about being a decent gym leader and, well, to make a long story short, we went through some trials and in the end we trusted each other quickly. Just by me showing I cared about him... Now I know I can always count on Gyarados and that- I am capable of running a great gym," she proclaimed, glancing back up at the two men with a confident glow. "I've got a long way to go, but I'm taking it all in stride."

"Gyarados tend to be very spirited and feral creatures. You should feel proud for corralling one as well as you say when taking on the responsibilities as a new gym leader," Jay nodded, giving her kudos for her hard work. With her in charge just from the brief time he knew the girl, Jay was sure Misty's fiery and unwavering spirit could whip not just one but a _whole group _of Gyarados into shape!

His gaze eventually wandered to his little brother, his smile broadening with a twinkle of a mischievous eye. "Now it's your turn, Drake, around the share and tell circle," he mockingly nudge.

Drake's prodded arm stayed stiff, stifling a chortle as he cocked an eyebrow at his brother. "Do you have to call it that?"

"Well..." he paused, as if trying to decide with a thoughtful expression. "Yeah!" Jay jokingly smirked, his response causing Misty to chuckle.

Initially, the islander didn't mind engaging in lighthearted discussion, especially regarding something that was his ultimate muse. However, there were unshakable questions he had kept to himself all day, ones that refused to leave. Out of bona fide consternation, Drake wanted an explanation regarding the previous night's drama. Why his brother called Ash on that random occurrence, and why he was so set on the conclusion that Delia wasn't going to take him back... But he couldn't. Not with Misty sitting there, wide awake. She wouldn't intentionally ease drop or implore for private details, but still- it just wouldn't be appropriate. It was something they needed to discuss. A conversation Drake planned on having with his brother soon. He didn't know why he felt the right to know... he probably didn't. However, while Jay was drunk when he confessed to all of this, something still felt- raw.

Real in his mannerisms and speech. As if he was discreetly crying out suppressed confessions.

"I suppose my toughest to train was Gengar," Drake instead said, his consideration brief (for he already knew the answer) as his mind swirled with other matters.

Misty blinked at this. "I would have thought Dragonite or Ditto."

"I've had Dragonite since he was a Dratini, and Jay can tell you that I studied as much as I could about dragon types till I fell asleep in my textbook. And while Ditto is a harder Pokémon to raise based upon the fact that it adapts to others abilities and appearances, its difficulty was not on the same level as Gengar."

Misty arched an eyebrow. "A trickster, I presume?" she said, thinking back on her own personal experiences.

Drake smiled and laughed faintly. "You could say that."

The sizzling and snapping of the fire became the primary noise, all their voices falling as if not knowing where to take the conversation next. Usually their talks lasted more than a few minutes, but were never so often on such an open level. All three trainers could admit it was rather- nice, and comforting to know trust had been formed. Still, there was a hint of awkwardness in the air as they tried to think of _something_ to converse about.

Specifically, Drake's train of thought came to halt. Offhand, he spotted his brother's tattoo from the corner of his eye, the raise of Jay's sleeve revealing half of the design as he leaned back. Momentarily, Drake stared feeling the need to ask how he was managing. Last night, all Jay could do between his drunken grumbles was complain about the pain before sleep finally consumed him.

"How's your wrist, by the way?"

Immediately, Jay perked up and looked to his little brother. "Fine," he answered, his eyes appearing unnerved as he glanced down to the designed wrist. He had almost forgotten about the tattoo up until that point, and now fixated on it. He raised his wrist midway, high enough for only him to gleam at it. "God, I must have been drunk off my ass to want to do this," he huffed incredulously. "I don't even remember what I said."

"It was all a big blur to me, too," said Drake, now thinking Jay still wanted to know what happened as he originally asked that morning. "But I _do_ recall you distinctively saying something like you make me bleed, and every time I look at this I'll know it's you who cut my deepest wound."

Jay frowned. He knew who his brother was implying.

"That's awfully dark. Did I really say that?"

"Well, it does sound like you," Drake replied casually, eyes glancing about. "You can be very macabre at times."

That Jay couldn't counter. Intuitively, he knew Drake was being humorous with his words, yet the master found himself soaking it in and taking the comments seriously. His learned reflex to brood started to infiltrate his head, trying to squash the surge of emotions beginning to pour. His trance was broken, however, caught off guard by a pair of sea-green eyes looming over his shoulder.

"Can I see it?" Misty innocently asked.

Evidently, Drake wasn't shy in sharing his brother's lack of judgement. He couldn't necessarily be angry at him, though, knowing it was unavoidable to hide the depressing design from Misty.

Caving in without a fight, Jay held his wrist out. "Why not."

From there, the redhead leaned in for a closer peek. Awkwardly, Drake had revealed the name now attached to Jay's skin, the proclamation alone leaving Misty unsure as to how to respond. She was flabbergasted but then not. It was rather tragic to the girl, that he was compelled to have her name forever embroidered on his skin as if already foreseeing his desperate longing for her would never be mollified...

"It's pretty- I mean, the details are nice," the girl clarified shyly as she admired the evenly written ink. "Not that I'd get one myself."

"Well, I wasn't planning on getting one, either," Jay snorted, his stiffness indicating the instituting of his restlessness.

By the shortness in his tone, Drake picked up on his brother's thinning tolerance. With a bite of his lip, he was beginning to regret his mere question of brotherly concern, recognizing the elegantly printed name was eating at Jay.

"You have no idea how much I regret yesterday," he suddenly belted, as if his taking the blame for Jay's rash decision made a difference in the man's sulking.

But of course, it didn't.

"Don't," Jay insisted. "Unless you're clairvoyant, you couldn't have known that I'd lose my senses."

Not even he could have foretold his motives. The tattoo was such a careless and regrettable move on Jay's part, his fury with himself mentally pounding away on his thick skull. Why did he have to go in the tattoo parlor? Why did he have to drink? Why did he have to spout off disclosures he was happy keeping a secret for the rest of his life? He had learned to be an expert at concealing secrets, shielding himself from any harm he was fearful of being afflicted with. But now instead of safeguarding his heart, Jay had allowed it to become wounded. As if the daily repetition of her name and memory of her lovely face didn't haunt him already, now to have her physically embedded on his skin, to see it every hour, every minute, knowing even if it all ended well his chances of having his happy ending with her were slim...

"Now I really can't get her off my mind." In one push upward, Jay rose to his feet and in glum sweeps brushed the dirt off his pants. His gaze purposely eluding the others, masking the slip of emotion his voice had not yet fallen prey to.

"It's getting late," he declared, solely looking to the moon. "We should probably call it a night."

Jay's abrupt calling back of Tyranitar to her pokeball and overall exit wasn't stopped by anyone. He retreated to his tent with Vulpix sleepily following behind, as if escaping from something he wished not to confront. Nothing was uttered after that, only a shared mutual glance of somberness between the remaining trainers.

When Misty and Drake were getting an inch closer to opening Jay's heart, the door retracted and refused for the key to be pushed and twisted inside.


	17. Paranoia, Paranoia

**Author's Note:** Hello my wonderful readers! :) Can I say how sorry I am for it to have taken a month to post the next chapter? All I can say is, this has been once crazy month for me and my beta reader! Lots going on for us. Needless to say, I'm kind of disappointed I STILL didn't get to my Halloween/autumn Pokemon fic I have been working for the last couple of years... oh well. Until next year- AGAIN! ^^; This time of the year is just always busy for me. Anyway, I'm glad to have posted this new installment. :) We are getting soooo close to some major plot developments! Currently, chapter 18 and 19 are with my beta reader. And I would also like to say the plot is going to pick up the pace starting next chapter. Rest assured, there will be **PLENTY** of action to come from our Pallet Town heroes too, Ash especially of course! It's all just building up to an epic and important climax.

Thanks for all your patience, enjoy the new chapter, and of course, Happy Halloween to all of you! :D

**DISCLAIMER:** _Pokémon_ belongs to Satoshi Tajri. My oc's belong to me.

* * *

**Sunlight's Return**

**Chapter 17**

_"Paranoia, Paranoia, Everybody's Coming to get Me"_

If feet could fly, they were in this instance.

Simultaneous, repeated breaths were panted out and thuds of feet pounded against the earth in harmonious unison as Jay and his comrades skittered across another winding, tree-filled path. It was the fourth chase they had been confronted with that day, their nutrition-deprived bodies tiring by the overdrive of exhilarating and heart-pounding exercise. Dodging Pokémon attacks ranging from flamethrowers to poison stings to ice-beams, and now just the charging of a small group of grunts. Though despite the powerful and deadly moves, they were not the ones to ultimately cause the heroes' greatest falter.

Their feet were.

Crashing against the earth during their latest mad dash, the single touch of their toes led to an array of hidden nooses tying themselves around each pair of ankles as if they were custom-made for the trainers. The three's bodies swung in panicked wiggles, their minimal luggage tumbling out of their grasps, and they rammed into one another as the dizziness and hazy eyes set in. Focused fuzzily, the trio discovered a swarm of agents dressed in black uniforms rising out of the bushes, cackling at their discomfort and their victory of the trainers' restrained upside-down states.

"We've got 'em, boys!" they cheered, the mixture of the criminals' voices faint. More came up behind the trainers, the ones doing all the work of pursuing, seeing their effort had paid off.

Feeling a slight breeze drift through his now lazily hanging hair, Jay let out a growl. "You have _got_ to be joking," he grumbled bitterly.

"Hahaha!" the leader of the group bellowed, balancing his hands on his large but firm hips. "We finally caught you, Jayce Ketchum! Now you'll pay for all the trouble you've caused us!"

Internally, the master groaned at their remarks, but outwardly shot back an unimpressed look. "Dear God, where did you get that lame line of yours? From a villain on a children's T.V. show?"

Offended by his snarky comment, the head grunt let out a nasty snarl, ready to strike back without restraint, until the presence of a woman stole the scene.

"Don't bother entertaining his wit."

Three pairs of eyes glanced up, their upside-down view showing not only one more addition to the Team Rocket crew, but two. Standing before the ensnared trainers was a confident Cassidy with Butch right next to her, following her lead. Jay and his friends had not seen them since the destruction of the car, which was over a week ago. Meaning that they had been running in circles without making any headway towards a town or finding a decent spot with cell reception. It was indisputable that they were the ones behind the new tactic of trying to imprison them, preventing the trainers from ever making it out of the path to Lavender Town.

"Well, if isn't Cassidy and her_ bitch_?" Jay soon sneered as they fully came into his view. He had wanted to say that clever insult for a while now. "It's nice to see you two for once, instead of having your big brutes do all the work for you."

Stepping in front of his partner, Butch held up a tight, white glove-covered fist and bared his teeth. "You better watch what you say, pal! I am no one's bitch!-"

"Hush, Botch," Cassidy mildly commanded by a wave of her hand. Begrudgingly, he retracted and acted submissively, letting his female partner carry on as she let out an arrogant chuckle. "You know, Ketchum, you really are something else. After all this time of chasing you three, a silly little trap such as this is the thing that does you in, huh? If I knew this was going to work, then I would have tried it_ weeks_ ago."

"Don't flatter yourself," he scoffed, unmoved by her words- or at least trying to stay calm through the impending threat. "I wouldn't get your hopes up too high if you seriously think this measly trap is going to contain us."

Cassidy raised a perfectly tweezed eyebrow. "Oh, really? Well, get a load of this: boys, I want you to take their pokeballs!"

From all sides, men raced across the small area, the three not only immobilized by their feet, but completely surrounded everywhere they looked.

Furrowing her red eyebrows, Misty glared at Cassidy. "Like we're gonna let you do that!" she belted, her body swaying from her rigid motion of rage.

Dismissing her rebuttal, Cassidy simply snapped and followed through with her next order of business. "Restrain them!"

There was hardly a chance to react in defense. Multiple arms grabbed hold of their wrists, twisting and turning them viciously until all they could move was the mere wiggling of their upper fingers. Wrists were locked so tightly with an incredible clench, even Jay and Drake were having difficulty breaking through. They went as far as to use their muscles, and purposely slam into the criminals with a shove of their shoulder or back. Tragically, if one grunt stumbled back in pain, another one seized the opportunity to intercede, and soon, the belts were stripped off their waists.

Delighting in now possessing their pokebelts, Cassidy approached the trio to flaunt her successes. "See?" she teased with a devilish grin, leaning towards Jay's face specifically. "Now was that so hard?"

"Arrgh..."

His growl went unacknowledged by the agent as she walked away, though Misty did not disregard the wrath and fear in Jay's eyes. The sudden and uncontrollable shivering exhilarated through her body, and she could feel her breaths increase rapidly every time she felt a puncturing of nails dig into her skin. Misty eventually flew her gaze at Jay, but he was too occupied scowling into Cassidy's wretched soul to give her frightened expression a second of assurance.

This wasn't the first occasion Team Rocket had triumphed in their capturing- _technically_ it was, but many times before, the thugs were very close in executing their goal. Jay and Drake's Pokémon had been helpful since the start, though suffering not only critical blows from Team Rocket's attacks, the creatures were also in need of nourishment and a sufficient healing of their scraped bodies and tired limbs. Travel by air was sadly impractical after Jay's Flygon's attempt to scout the area for civilization, only to be brutally attacked by an overpowering and enormous group of Salamence. Jay had known Flygon for his extreme speed and agile attacks, making the master assume Team Rocket had bred a meaner, possibly genetically altered batch of Salamence, who were so ruthless the master had to use up the remainder of the first aid supplies to ease the wounds across the dragon's wings. After seeing the gruesome blows, Drake believed using Dragonite would end in disaster as well, forcing the trainers to walk on foot.

To fall prey to the evil organization.

Money was also gravely low, no thanks to Jay's accidental spending on beers and a regrettable tattoo, and potions were gone due to a mart not being in sight. Not to mention, most of their luggage had been damaged during their endless running. The humans themselves were in dire need of rest...and a bath, the forest and its harsh conditions making it unbearable for all to endure.

With the dozens of grunts Cassidy and Butch recruited, for once the number of beings and rest outweighed the willpower of those who were struggling to survive. Especially with the foreboding doom that Team Rocket now intended to specifically take Misty and Drake's lives.

That hideous reality became clear to Misty as each day of only woodsy scenery passed on.

"You aren't going to make off with our Pokémon!" Drake finally interjected, his stubborn determination buried behind exhausted blue eyes.

"Th-that's right!" added Misty, trying to stay strong herself.

Once again, Cassidy found amusement in their snarls. "Your little threats are just so- _cute_." She snapped her fingers and prompted a single lackey to fulfill her next request.

"All right," a different agent came forward, though appearing more menacing than the one whose line of victory ended in a defeated blow thanks to Jay. His shifty eyes lingered between the captives and Cassidy, soon whipping out a switchblade from his back pocket. "Now that we've got their 'belts, which throat do you want me to slit first? The girl's perhaps? To get all the screaming out of the way?"

Misty shook and gulped. _T-t-the s-sc-crea-m-ming? _

As fast as her petrified jitters came, the gym leader felt a gentle shoulder bump from Jay. Her scared eyes darted to meet his icy blue ones, swirling with a twinge of reassurance. She could tell by a single glimpse that Jay wouldn't allow that knife to come close to her throat, and yet her body could not stop quivering as the shimmer of the newly sharpened blade reflected against the sun's hot rays.

Peeking around at his partner, Butch apprehensively poked her shoulder. "Uh, Cass? Let's maybe-"

"Why don't we just leave them here? To suffer in the heat. That's a long and agonizing punishment in itself," Cassidy suggested quickly, her change in plans surprising both her fellow agents and the trainers.

Analyzing her with a critical eye, the grunt with the weapon squashed her proposal. "The boss gave us strict orders to take them out and I intend to follow them." He squinted for a moment, his eyebrows furrowing with suspicion after noticing the subtle exchange between Cassidy and Butch.

Then, the criminal sneered. _Cowards. _

"Don't tell me you two are going soft, are you? If that's the case, I think your weak conscience deserves mentioning to the head honcho himself."

Feeling heat take over her cheeks, Cassidy released a few blinks and, in a fluster, countered. "N-no! We're not soft! Not in the slightest!" She tried to signal Butch to nod as well, making her statement hopefully valid to the weary grunt. However, Butch was transfixed as his nervous eyes darted between the girl hanging upside down and the weapon of choice.

"Then let me do my work, honey," the heartless grunt replied. He turned his attention to his awaiting partners in crime. "Cuff her mouth."

A gasp slipped from Misty's throat, and was unable to morph into any sort of a scream as a hand wrapped itself around her mouth. Repeated muffled screeches erupted, her mind jumping into fight or flight mode as a row of teeth chomped down on a glove covered finger. By the sharp sting the agent withdrew, cursing fervently under his breath while another one proceeded to take over with a much firmer grip.

In horror, Jay helplessly watched Misty's pupils dilate, her face reddening as the pressure of those villainous fingers pushed into her cheeks and lips.

"STOP!" he bellowed madly, his thunderous voice directing to the grunt with the knife. "Don't even _try_ it! Just take me and let them go!"

"'Fraid your chances of coming on your own are up, Ketchum." He walked up towards Jay with the tip of the blade near his nose, a cocky smirk forming as if feeding off the terror skyrocketing from the trainers. "Now it's time for you to pay."

Nothing could describe the rush of trepidation festering inside Jay, powerless as an innocent girl's life could not be saved by his capable hands. He as well as his brother wriggled violently in the clutch of their captors, arms strained, hearts pounding as they desperately fought to break free and stop that knife from drawing ever closer-

The blade froze in midair, inches away from Misty's neck.

"What was that?"

What sounded like a loud rustle in the brush caused all to fall silent, several pairs of eyes darting to the spot where they believed the noise originated. As for Misty, she panted out a deep sigh of relief, her breath hot for a hand was still clamped around her mouth. Dread brewing, she knew the stalling wouldn't last for too long until another more noticeable snapping of branches alerted the agents to step into defensive mode.

"Who's there?!" the agent shouted into the tree line, his empty hand reaching back towards his 'belt.

Either they were being too cautious, or something was indeed lurking in the woods. In desperate hope of being freed, Misty endlessly prayed _something_ was there regardless it if was a person or dare she say a _bug _Pokémon.

That's how badly she wanted to be liberated.

Lucky for the gym leader, it was not a bug type, for the insects in Kanto weren't known for using fire attacks. Out of nowhere, spits of what appeared to be embers soared through the air, each strike splitting the durable strength of the ropes. In unison, the trainers plunged to the ground, landing on their backs. Long moans were produced afterwards, acute nerves tingling down their spines. Someone had just saved them. Saved them! It was completely unexpected, as was the next move that followed.

Without even having a split-second to run, the mysterious creature revealed itself to be a speedy Quilava, starting with a double-team attack to bring about confusion before sprinting on all fours. Then, it dashed from side to side, knocking over a fair amount of the stupefied grunts. Backwards, the men fell with agonizing groans, and others were soon taken out by a ruthless swift attack into their guts. Gawking in utter stupefaction, Cassidy's expression of shock transformed into one of frustration, raising a fist in the air as she threw a tantrum.

"What are you idiots doing?! Get up and fight!"

That was easier said than done. This fire type clearly demonstrated being trained by a thoughtful and gifted trainer, one who worked on enhancing their Pokémon's speed and agility. Last time Cassidy checked, Ketchum _did not _have another recruit lagging behind. No one else had been with the trio all week. So who was the puppet master behind this charade?

Becoming vexed by the staggered agents surrounding her, Cassidy let out a groan. "Come out, whoever you are!" she ordered sternly, only to hear nothing but the natural sounds nature bore.

Fed up, she was about ready to duel with the pesky Quilava until the soft flapping of wings caused her focus to dive back into the overgrown mixture of shrubs and trees. Perched on a low branch was a Natu, its round head cocking to the side as it quietly studied Cassidy and Butch. It was as if a staring match was ensuing, Cassidy deeply scrutinizing the native Johto bird in its silence, eventually mesmerized by what looked like a purple glow... From the Pokémon's eyes, a cast of purple surfaced, the color flashing for a moment before emitting a similar shade onto the duo and their dazed recruits.

Immediately, two hands were firmly pressed into the back of Misty and Drake's head, pushing their faces downward into the dirt to avoid being hypnotized with the effective psychic move. By the change of color in its eyes, Jay took note of the mind-controlling assault, safeguarding himself and his comrades from the repercussions that Team Rocket was about to endure. All he could do was breath heavy into the dirt and grass, his heart slowing in long but steady beats of relief.

_Gratefulness. _

As Jay expected, Team Rocket was hypnotized by the psychic attack, their bodies engulfed in a purple haze and soon staring off as if they had been downgraded to mindless zombies. A small jerk of Natu's head caused the selected agents to release the trainers' pokebelts as well as the switchblade, utterly spellbound. It was then that Quilava stepped in again, finally revealing the voice of the trainer who commanded the grand finale.

"Now, Quilava, send them flying with overheat!"

Hunkering down, the creature prepped itself for the thrilling attack, its mouth steadily creating a glow of white. The white soon manifested into shades of red and orange, the burning flames spiraling out and soon hitting the earth with a great rumble. The disoriented grunts were then sent soaring into the sky, the impact of the fire move and the remnants of the psychic attack mingling together to create a minor explosion.

Jay and the others huddled closer together, feeling only drops of embers singe their clothes as the faint screams indicated Team Rocket's exit. A couple of minutes passed before they raised their heads, scouting about as they took note of the damage that had been done.

For a time, there was a disturbance in the brush and at last a figure emerged. "Good job, Quilava," the voice praised with a stroke to the neck of the creature. "That was your best one yet!"

The gentle hand abruptly stopped its petting, however, feet darting around to collect the lying 'belts. As fast as they gathered the belts, a shadow was cast over the fallen trainers, their eyes first meeting feet then the hands that held their prized possessions.

"Here you go!"

From their perspective on the ground, the trainer was unveiled to be a young bubbly girl around the age of twelve, with a very small juvenile Furret resting in between her bushy locks on the center of her head. She smiled at them as her blue eyes sparkled, her wheat-colored hair bouncing in two large wavy pigtails.

Sea-green eyes widened in astonishment, instantly recognizing the girl by her looks and giggle. _Could that be- Molly? Molly Hale?! _She sure looked like her from Misty's fuzzy memory, explaining why she'd have Johto Pokémon with her.

Before Misty could interrogate the girl's identity, however, a shrill, excitable gasp escaped from her throat. "Oh, my gosh! You're him!" she exclaimed, her little fists tight in front of her chest as the 'belts dangled. "You're actually him! You're Drake, the leader of the Orange Crew!"

"Oh, God..." grumbled Jay, his face smearing back into the dirt.

Great. Jay rolled his eyes as he arched himself up on his elbows. He hardly had a moment to process Team Rocket's unforeseen departure, let alone prepare himself for a child in their midst. They not only had a kid entangling herself in the web of their messes, but she also was a fan of Drake's.

"I am your biggest fan!" she went on gushing, eyelashes batting at the islander with sheer admiration. "The way you handle Ditto, I find it so inspiring and so original! Can I have your autograph?"

Drake smiled at her innocent enthusiasm, flattered but nonetheless wishing to first be out of this precarious state. Making a deal, he sweat-dropped. "Sure, if you untie us."

Calling upon her third Pokémon, the girl's Ursaring successfully freed the trainers without further damage to their aching bodies by carefully digging a sharp claw through the thick rope. As they rose from the grass, they dusted themselves off. Their hearts eased incredibly from the earlier exhilaration, placing their 'belts about their waists again.

The child observed their current disheveled state in amazement as she thanked and returned her Pokémon back to their pokeballs. "You guys sure got mixed up with some pretty nasty characters," she acknowledged, for she had watched most of the scene unfold from a high tree branch. "I've run into a good dozen of them, too. Luckily, though, I've got my Pokémon with me. If it weren't for them, I wouldn't have gotten these beauties."

Beauties? Now curious at her words, Jay, Misty and Drake gave the trainer their full attention, gazing at her in surprise as she settled her Octillery backpack down and revealed the sparkling contents within. A heart scale, a soothe bell, an electric gem, a sun stone, a sea incense, an iron plate, a dusk stone, a miracle seed, a dragon fang, a fire stone... The items must have been collected throughout all the regions, clearly a scant amount of the valuable treasure Team Rocket so stealthily snatched and kept for their own destructive purposes.

Looking at the girl with mild astonishment, Jay raised a brow. "You_ stole _Team Rocket's loot?" He was thoroughly impressed with the girl's apparent skill she bore not only as a trainer, but as a- hero of sorts who thieved with valid reasoning.

"I stole it back," the young girl clarified, hinting the items had been robbed in the first place. Then her eyebrows lowered, gleaming into her open backpack. "If I could return any of this stuff to the right people I would, but...finder's keepers!" she couldn't help but declare, releasing a free laugh.

Or so Jay thought. Perhaps she wasn't actually a Robin Hood archetype- she was just a child after all, who had enough sense, decency, and humanity to spare their lives. Not that he was about to chat up a storm with her. They needed to move on before Team Rocket prevented them from getting to a town so close to them that it wasn't even funny.

As she placed her traveling luggage back on her shoulders, Molly's face was consumed with a puzzled expression. It seemed sudden at first, but it became clear to one individual in the trio that the young trainer was perhaps catching on to their long ago acquaintance.

"Say," she started slowly, eyeing Misty, "I know this might sound weird but you look familiar- and so do you!" she abruptly shouted, her index finger swerving and now pointing at Jay. "Do I know you from somewhere?"

Jay was the first to return her interjection with an odd look. She didn't look familiar to him. It wasn't as if he knew many children in the first place, let alone ones that were younger than his own son. His memory could only recall those Ash used to play with in his toddler years, and Molly would have been nothing more than a newborn baby or one cooking away in her mother's stomach.

Cutting in with a gentle smile, Misty at last cleared the air. "Actually you do, Molly. It's me, Misty," she gestured warmly to herself. "My friends and I helped you when- with the Unown."

In a flash, Molly's blue eyes brightened and her grin bloomed at the- _somewhat_ positive association. "Oh, that's where I've seen you before!"

"And this is Ash's dad," Misty continued to elucidate, motioning to Jay. "Do you remember him?"

She squinted. "Ash I remember...but not you."

Jay frowned. _Well, duh. _

He had been hit with the traumatizing news involving the Unown and the illusion of Entei they so wickedly created from Prof. Oak after the incident occurred. A tale in which Jay was not delighted to neither hear nor imagine, considering the danger his wife and son were forced to escape. After all, he had originally left to _keep_ them out jeopardy, not to unleash treacherous events onto his family while he was away. That was an occasion he was furious with Sam about, taking a great deal of time before calming down and hearing the researcher out fully. It was after that explosion that Prof. Oak decided to keep any more stories of Ash and his friends' wildly explosive adventures to himself.

So now Jay was confronted with the girl who had unintentionally caused the mayhem to ensue. He didn't feel an ounce of anger towards her, more so sympathy and bafflement over how outrageous the circumstances grew. The man could only fathom the pain, sadness, and misery she once suffered after supposedly losing both her parents. He was never faced with such traumatic loss as a child-

But he had experience in his adult life, knowing in the back of his mind he caused similar agony and heartache to his own flesh and blood...

"So she's Prof. Hale's daughter," he stated rather than asked, his voice lowered. "I haven't seen her since she was infant."

"So you do know her?" Misty inquired.

"In a way," Jay answered thoughtfully. "Her father was a college intern of Prof. Oak's while I was in high school. Spencer and I weren't close, but Delia and I knew him well enough to get acquainted with his family... Guess I missed out on a lot."

It was Misty's turn to sweat-drop. "No kidding," she mumbled awkwardly.

Their side conversation was brought to a halt from there, distracted by the polite chit-chat Drake was entertaining Molly with, after promptly thanking her for her noble efforts.

"So, where are you heading, Molly?" he asked.

"To Pallet Town," she said, the small Furret burrowing comfortably into her tresses. "I'm getting my starter from Prof. Oak so I can start my Kanto journey. I was in the top fourteen of the Johto league, so I wanted to try out for another one!"

"That's great," Drake grinned. "Being in the top fourteen is very impressive for a first time trainer. Do you have your heart set on a particular starter?"

She wasn't hesitant with her response, her euphoria intensifying as her imagination of receiving the desired Pokémon she wished for played out in her head. "I _really_ want a Bulbasaur," she confessed, squealing at the thought of the little grass dinosaur. "They're so cute with their big eyes and their stubby little legs and that adorable bulb on their backs- I hope since Papa and Prof. Oak are friends that he'll save it for me."

"I'm sure the professor will," the islander assured, chortling softly.

This was all hunky-dory and so sickly cute it belonged in the adventures of a children's novel, and Jay was growing impatient. He wanted to move _fast_, especially since there was now a real threat hanging over Misty's and his brother's lives. To see the redhead nearly bawl and pass out as the weapon that was meant for her was shown vividly, and he was restrained, helplessly watching, his fatherly side passionately driving him to spare her...

Jumping in the middle of the harmless discussion, Jay frankly hinted the urgency for them to press forward. "Listen kid, we appreciate your help and we hate to cut this short- but we've gotta get going."

He walked away after that, hardly stirring a protest, rather more so receiving glances of puzzlement. Drake assured the girls with a calm smile and silent gesture, speeding up his pace as he came by his brother's side.

"You can't seriously just leave her here," the islander whispered incredulously, commencing their bickering of whispers.

Jay's gaze of the path ahead was broken, looking to Drake in hopes of him understanding his decision. "I wouldn't under any normal circumstances. But do you really want a kid traveling with us? Like, a _real_ kid?" he needed to remind.

"It wouldn't be ideal, but I can't say I wouldn't be beating myself up for leaving her."

"And I would be beating myself up if I _let_ her. She's better off not following us. Team Rocket already wants to hurt Misty and-" Jay recognized the wrath blustering in his vocal cords, centering himself again as he suppressed his inner frustrations and fright. "I _don't _want them to go after an innocent child, too."

The thought of the criminals bringing any form of unfathomable harm to either girl made the man shiver to such a low core inside he couldn't stand the sick feeling he was left with. Molly was, as expected, a wide-eyed innocent child, whose annoyances and peppy attitude were less than wanted. Despite such, Jay would never, ever want harm to befall her, his gruff decision demonstrating his cautious and fatherly side. It was bad enough Misty, Brock, and now Tracey were involved- but someone so young, so full of life, who could not even begin to understand the threats that could unfold-

_Would_ unfold.

"But there're agents all over the place, Jay," Drake rebutted, still adamant to continue the debate. "What if they want to seek revenge on her because she helped us escape?"

"They _shouldn't_ if she _doesn't_ come with us," his older brother barked back, his words harshening with every clench of his teeth. "The sooner we separate from her the better. We can't allow another life to be at risk-"

"_Sooo_ for going out my way to save you guys, can I tag along? When you're done whispering whatever it is you're saying, of course."

If only they had been quieter. Or perhaps walked a greater distance before disputing the best course of action.

Closing his eyes, Jay sighed. "Kid-"

"Molly," she swiftly corrected, peering up at him.

"_Molly_," the master started again, sucking in a deep breath. "We appreciate your help more than we can express, but we're in a bit of a hurry."

"I don't mind hurrying. I'm a fast runner!"

"That's nice," he dismissed sarcastically.

"I've got strong Pokémon too in case yours are too weak."

If only she knew. Yes, he and his comrades' Pokémon were beyond rundown from the blows they had taken from Team Rocket's relentless and brutal efforts, but his Pokémon could not be defined so lowly as _weak_.

Finding his patience wavering, Jay released a subtle growl. "My Pokémon _are not _weak-"

"_And_ I've got a map!"

"We _don't_ need one."

His exasperated reply was useless, for Molly's naïve nature dismissed the irritation burning in the back of Jay's throat. "Where are you heading?" she instead questioned, holding up the large sheet of landscapes, blocking the upper portion of her small frame.

"Silver Town, then Lavender Town," Drake intervened. He earned a sharp glance from his brother. "But ultimately we're trying to get to the Indigo League."

"You're heading to Silver Town?"

Huffing outwardly, Jay could feel a migraine coming on. And it wasn't entirely from the fall he had taken earlier. "That's what he _just _said-"

"I just came from there!" Molly announced buoyantly, lowering the map to see them. "It's not too far from here. I can show you the way!"

"We wouldn't want to trouble you, though, Molly," Misty piped in.

She could tell the obvious frustration blooming across Jay's flustered face. As much as the gym leader craved to reach a nearby center and retrieve her Pokémon at last from her sisters, she too was plagued with similar concerns, but she also could see Drake's point of view on the situation. _Leaving_ Molly seemed morally wrong but so did _bringing_ her. It was a tough call, one in which she couldn't make nor was in the position to.

That was left up to the men.

Seeing things from her perspective, Misty was still shaken up by the events that just occurred. Her somewhat quiet behavior only illustrating the wave of upheaval in her life she had been hit with. By now, the redhead was beginning to not accept, but comprehend the hazards at stake, the very ones Jay had warned her about since the start. Misty was beyond thankful to have two strong, protective, and caring men with her for safety and guidance; nonetheless she still could not forget the ultimatum she was potentially faced to pay.

The countless times she had been reminded of that in just one week.

With her guileless smile remaining, Molly shrugged. "It's all right. I'd love to have some traveling buddies with me. And I'd _love _to ask you more questions about your ditto, Mr. Drake!" she added with a change in focus, her pleading blue eyes gazing at the elite trainer to make a deal. "Please? _Pleeease_ let me come with you guys? I've got really cool gadgets too, if that makes my argument any more appealing!"

Pokémon, stolen items, and technology were all stowed away in that orange octopus of a backpack... She made an effervescent argument and was undeniably unyielding to making their team a party of four... Eventually, Drake looked to his brother, waiting anxiously for his final answer.

There was a pause, but surprisingly it wasn't long. The decision was a difficult one to make; adding to the list as one of the most challenging calls Jay had ever been faced with. Either way, it appeared as if Molly would be bedeviled with some form of menacing trouble-

And in the end, Jay knew in his heart where Molly was best off.

A begrudgingly welcoming hand motioned forward. "Lead the way."

* * *

An even stream of gushing water crashed directly into a Goldeen and Seaking decorated kiddie pool.

Perched back with his slim arms tucked behind his head was a smirking Gary, savoring the minor shine of sunny rays glistening across his body. Partial shade was provided by the bright red umbrella positioned over his tipped-back head, accompanied by a small, folded wooden table for him to place his half-empty drink of lemonade upon. His body stretched out across a blue and yellow striped beach chair, only his feet dangling off as they lightly splashed into the cool water while his "servant" for the next week was filling up the pool.

His "servant" who couldn't wait for this hell to come to a hopefully merciful end.

If he was lucky.

Ash had been at this little game of catering to Gary's ludicrous needs for a week, keeping up the dutiful acts discreetly from his friends and family. Every chance he had to slip away from Brock was due to Gary's nasally calls of assistance. Ash felt partially thankful Brock was unaware of his whereabouts, except for the fact that his friend was spending a great deal of time at the famous Oak Laboratory. No investigating could be done on why Brock was venturing there so often, for Ash was too preoccupied with the "jobs" that had been assigned to him.

For the last seven days Gary made nothing but silly little demands, ranging from errands to the grocery store to personal chores the brunette didn't feel inclined to do with his new flunky of sorts. Some of the most preposterous ones included Ash bringing a fresh watermelon from Greta's store back to Gary's house, then having him cut the fruit into slices, and from there pick out _all_ the seeds so they wouldn't get stuck in Gary's very "sensitive" gums. Then there was the intense task of washing Gary's new cobalt sports car his parents had gotten him for his birthday back in May. That was a tedious chore in itself, between scrubbing all the crevices and shining the glass windows, regardless of the fact that the car was hardly caked in dirt. Subsequently, to Ash's misfortune, his prune-like hands and thrown-out back pleased Gary to think he had done an "adequate" enough job with the car for the spiteful brunette to suggest taking a whack at cleaning and buffering his own Blastoise's _gigantic_ shell. An altercation ensued from the snide proposal, but yet again, Ash found himself with a large wash broom and polishing oil as he buffered away on the soon to be sparkling brown shell of the overgrown tortoise.

Exhausted couldn't even begin to describe how Ash was feeling at this point.

Flashing peeved chocolate eyes up from the swishing water, Ash grunted for Gary's attention, though his cousin barely acknowledged him with a movement of his head. So Ash spoke up anyway, wanting to address his addled request, for the convenient water Pokémon a short distance from them could be of use to Ash's sweaty forehead and numbing fingers.

"Gary, why didn't you just have your Blastoise fill up the pool so I didn't have to drag and hook up this hose?" he asked in annoyance, gesturing to the long strand of many hoses he twisted together across the Oak property to reach Gary's ideal spot for sunbathing.

"Ash, don't be inconsiderate," Gary scolded, still gazing up at the inside interior of the umbrella. "I don't want my Blastoise to lose all his internal water storage and dehydrate from this weather. Now, you don't want him- a poor innocent Pokémon- to suffer, do you? Because you don't want to connect and move a hose all by yourself? Quit looking for a shortcut and just do what I say."

As the sun continued to beat down its overly heated rays, the ever so at ease Gary ignored Ash's scoff and let out a satisfied sigh, sucking up another gulp of his bittersweet drink. His fingers mindlessly played with the bright green patterned umbrella resting in the beverage, one of the decorations out of the overly priced package Ash fetched from the grocery store after rummaging through the "discount" basket near the checkout. He didn't understand why Gary found it so imperative to have an ornamental piece dangling out of his icy drink, as if he was really slurping up a cocktail or something! Needless to say, Ash now despised one more thing associated with his old egotistical rival. Trivial the aversion was, the affiliation was much too strong to simply overlook and forget- mostly because Ash nearly passed out from all the running he did in the heat.

Adjusting the sleek dark frames of his black sunglasses, Gary examined the menial work that had been performed before swiftly bringing the rushing water to a halt. "That's enough water, Ashy," he arched, waving his hand. "I don't need the water spilling out."

With a fast snap of the trigger, the nozzle shut off completely. Ash scrunched his face and resisted the urge to unleash a loud groan from the insufferable state of it all. Staring off into the distance, the teenage boy longed to rest in the comfort of the lab's air conditioning, envious of the glorious time Brock and Tracey were having whatever it is they were doing. He felt so left out, unintentionally though, for his friends had willingly offered for him to tag along after Prof. Oak ordered in some takeout that needed picking up. Inside, he wanted to break free of this horrible agreement, beginning to feel the pressure with his companions and the professor close by, having a clear view of the scene right out the kitchen window... Ash supposed this was just Gary's sick way of keeping him in check, for him not to disobey with spectators curiously watching from a far. That and to make him walk a great distance back to the house when Gary was in need of a refill for his precious drink.

_Just six more days and then this will all be over, _Ash told himself, taking in a deep, calming breath. _Just SIX more days and then I'll know..._

Tossing the hose down with a harsh crash, Ash cocked a sarcastic eyebrow. "What would you like now, your highness?"

"Hmmm..." Gary started, as if giving it real thought. "Maybe you could put some lotion on my back. I don't want my skin to dry out due to this terrible heatwave. You can you use your prime gift of brute strength to rub my shoulder blades too."

For another time, a grunt was forced down Ash's throat as he walked over to the beach table. _Oh no,_ _you couldn't dare have you skin torched_, _but's it's perfectly fine for ME to get a sunburn! And brute strength? Who does he think he is with his Barbie arms? At least I can lift something over a hundred pounds! _

His silent tirade ended on that note, Gary barely scooting over on the long chair for Ash to sit behind him. On the tan wooden table sat two different types of bottles, one with a blue sticker and another with a green colored label, each having their unique aroma advertised in writing. Reaching for the vessel closest to him, Ash's hand froze in midair as he saw Gary shake his head from the corner of his eye.

"No, no," he tsk-tsked. "The bottle with the _green l_abel."

Frowning due to Gary's demeaning tone, Ash snatched the requested lotion, and out of curiosity looked at the name. It read _Musky Pine_, the fragrance's description which Ash found to be much too mature for a mere boy who began his transformation into a fully-grown man. Setting aside his personal opinion, Ash squeezed the strongly scented lotion into the open palm of his hand. He worked the cold substance briefly between his hands, though hesitated as his fingertips were inches away from striking Gary's bare back.

Slowly, he touched his shoulder blades, barely skimming the tips of his fingers tips across the skin as bits of lotion slid down the surface.

_Eww... _

Impatiently waiting to have his skin rejuvenate with moisture, Gary glanced and sneered. "What am I, poison? Apply some pressure!"

Ash grimaced at Gary's sharp demand, his thin forbearance snapping. Mockingly, Ash applied the "pressure" his cousin requested for. "Like _this_?"

Forceful and harsh tension was placed upon Gary's shoulder blades, the pinching and jarring reaction causing the brunette to let out a distressed holler. "Oww! Not too hard, you maniac! Geez!" he tugged at Ash's coarsely rubbing hands. Then Gary growled and successfully escaped Ash's minor attack, realizing the move was nothing but intentional on his part.

A hand gently caressed his back from what Gary could reach, glaring with deep fury at the boy who caused him his slight swell of agony. Pensively, he eventually dragged his irritated eyes to the grass, his toes twisting themselves among the bright green blades. That was surely unexpected, only proving to Gary that he needed to ease up on Ash before a bloodbath broke out. He had his naïve cousin eating from the palm of his hand, so desperate to unlock the secret behind his dad's disappearance. Never mind Gary himself still had difficulty wrapping the truth around his mind, let alone he hardly had the full reality spelled out in front of him. Only bits and pieces of tantalizing words sending a deep chill down his spine...

Gary tried to look past the little act, and instead cocked a wryly smile at his agitated cousin. "So Harper still hasn't returned your call?" He did have, after all, a bigger agenda than throwing snarky remarks at Ash from the infliction he had caused his back.

Ash's expression didn't shift. "No."

"Isn't that a shame."

_It's a shame for you, genius. _"Well, what would you like me to do about?" Ash spat out, getting to the point. "This is _your_ problem, after all."

Gary stroked his chin, prompting Ash to follow with a classic eye roll. "...Call her again."

"And say what?" The midnight haired teenager made a face. "I already left her a message."

"_Reiterate_ the message," he replied implacably.

As if it was that simple.

Ash had called Harper a little less than a week ago, only for his efforts to end in a blank screen of no messages on his phone. The likelihood of her responding was slim in Ash's eyes, considering she most likely found it strange he was the one seeking her out to contact Gary- as if it was planned. With such sheer desperation, Ash was beginning to wonder if Gary was in denial about the whole thing, seeing his persistence was unwavering. If Gary Oak cared about anything or anyone, Harper was apparently someone worth his precious time. So precious he wasn't ready to give into her stubborn silence quite yet, nor was he at all timid about enticing his desperate cousin to be a part of the "win her back" scheme since he evidently couldn't do it alone. As bitterly as Ash wanted to declare it, he _needed_ Harper to call back and at least talk to Gary. Regardless if she and Gary could work out their issues or the fact that they were even _meant_ to be together, Ash craved for her cooperation.

For as terrible as he felt- it was for his own selfish endeavors.

"Fine," Ash grimaced. "I'll get it over with."

He rose from the chair in a huff, reaching into his shorts pocket to fetch his cellphone. A swift hand and shake of the head halted Ash before he could even begin punching in the phone number, glancing to Gary as he wagged his finger.

"In a minute. First, my toes need attention," the brunette pointed out, gesturing towards his naked lounging feet. "You see, my toenails get a little sharp on the edges when I can't get to filing them. You might be okay with your Ursaring claws looking that way, Ash, but I'm much too evolved for that."

What was that? The twentieth jab for the day? And was it going to be Gary's best material too? Ash doubted it was the last as he looked off to the side and mumbled sourly. "It won't matter how 'evolved' you think you are, because you're about to become _extinct_-"

"What was that Ash?" To his dismay, Gary raised his sunglasses and nasally retorted as he sarcastically cuffed a hand over his ear. "Did I just hear a snide remark under your breath? That would be a tragedy if that was the case. 'Cause then I couldn't help you with dear ol' dad, now could I?"

Another jab. Only it was in a different context- and it was intended to hurt.

Turning around, Ash used his "brute strength" to tug the sloshing kiddie pool back, moving it away from Gary's feet to step between the two. Then, he crouched down on his knees in a huff, violently snatching the dark gray nail filer out of Gary's grasp.

Delighting in his wits and forms of manipulation, Gary leaned back in his beach chair and tucked his arms behind his head like before. Soon, a smirk was born. "Ya know, work ethic is_ so_ admirable. Really shows determination in a person. Especially if it's about something they _desperately_ want."

It was too difficult to resist a snort from falling, the nail file severing harder against the shaving keratin of Gary's big toe. _You know a thing or two about being desperate too now, don't you?_

It was tempting to say it out loud, but wisely Ash chose to keep the snarky comeback to himself. He _hated_ doing this. Degrading his own pride and logical sense for something that had been so far out of reach in years that any mere shimmer of hope was just too alluring not to try and seize... After all this time, Ash felt he deserved answers. The downside being he'd have to cater to Gary and whether he was telling the truth or bluffing for a good laugh... For some strange reason Ash didn't think he was lying. It was a feeling he had in his gut, and he couldn't interpret it other than with hard cold facts. Gary wanted Harper back. That much was clear, and he was obviously prepared to do whatever it took to reestablish the relationship he supposedly cared deeply about. Using Ash to coerce...that part was unclear to the teenager. Other than Gary having the information his cousin was seeking, and that he was at least an acquaintance to Harper, was how his involvement made sense to Ash. Someone who was close to Gary, whom she might feel comfortable enough to talk with...

Pausing, Ash's gaze flew to the right. Overhearing the innocent sounds of his Pokémon and watching all of them frolic about happily, getting along from a short distance away... He would have preferred to be a part of the fun and games, not evening Gary's toenails. Not all of the Pokémon could go about running and jumping with merriment, however. Some would stop and stare quizzically, but a gentle reassuring smile from their master prompted the creatures to return to their glee. They still paused and looked back at him occasionally in confusion, Pikachu especially finding it challenging to roam cheerily with his animal friends. He knew something was off with Ash, besides the night his trainer went on a puzzling spiel involving the brunette who the mouse knew as Ash's former rival. Though he was a Pokémon and couldn't fully grasp the complexity of human interactions and language, Pikachu was sharp and intuitive enough to sense distress inside his human companion, and the rodent disliked seeing Ash in such a precarious state.

Wanting Ash to join in and play with him and the others, Pikachu gracefully raced over to his trainer. His little yellow paws ended their journey at Ash's feet, his front legs and upper body gently jumping onto his lap for attention. "Pika pi, pikachu," the mouse cried out in a soft begging tone, gesturing towards their friends.

Immediately Ash tore his focus away from Gary and onto Pikachu, catching onto the Pokémon's request. He frowned depressingly at the innocent want in the rodent's eyes. "I can't play right now, buddy. I'm sorry," he apologized sincerely. "Just go back with the others."

But Pikachu wouldn't cave in easily.

"Pika, pikachu! Pi pika!" his voice rose, almost sounding argumentative, but with a soft note.

Again, Ash shook his head and his chocolate eyes grew weak. "I _can't_, Pikachu. Maybe later. But for right now, don't worry about me. Please, just go play."

"Pikachu! Pika!"

Taken aback by the mouse's increasing protests in volume and tugging of his pant leg, Ash drew back in surprise. He knew where his electric creature's persistence was coming from, but he didn't want Pikachu to get caught in the middle of the mess. This was his own choice, his own _fault_, and he didn't want his little pal to get hurt by any of it.

Growing stern and tired, Ash's dark eyebrows narrowed. "_Pikachu_-"

But Ash was beaten to the chase.

"Oh, for crying out loud, Ash! Just tell your stupid rat to get lost already!"

Tell his _what_? Frozen stiff, Ash's left eye twitched.

_That does it. _

It was_ the_ last straw. If anything was going to make Ash crack, it wasn't derogatory remarks about himself. He got over that as the years passed. No. What _really_ made his heart ignite with fury was anyone who dared to hurt his loved ones. Pikachu being in the top three. Of course it was a generic hurtful comment, one that he probably would have heard from Team Rocket- but this time was different. Gary had already pushed him all the way to the edge of his tolerance, and now he had officially tipped Ash over that ledge of self-containment.

Rising in rage, Ash stomped all the way over to the abandoned hose, lifting it up without hesitation and forcefully squeezing down on the handle of the nozzle. The nozzle was on the jet setting, hitting Gary with a sharp and powerful stream as he tumbled awkwardly out of his beach chair.

"AHH!" Gary screeched, batting the blasts of cold water. "What are you doing?!"

"You know why I'm doing this! Take back what you said, Gary!" Ash snarled viciously, clutching the handle of the nozzle in a tight hold. "You don't insult Pikachu! _Ever_!"

"Why the hell should I take back what I said?" he dared to refute, struggling to rise to his feet as he held his hands up in defense. "Stop it! Uggh! You're getting me all wet!" He was blinded by the water, continuing to bat at the liquid pathetically while dashing away.

Tragically for a shrieking Gary, Ash refused to comply. He came at Gary relentlessly with the hose and chased him from right to left with the shooting water. Unsure of what to do, Pikachu rejoined the other Pokémon, becoming a spectator of the scene himself. He didn't want a fight to ensue; if anything the mouse was trying to prevent such. Helpless, he sat nervously and went on watching with such meek apologetic cries Ash could not hear them over his yelling.

"What's the matter?" the dark haired teenager soon shouted cuttingly. "Afraid you're gonna melt, Wicked Witch?"

"I'm a guy! I'd be a warlock, you dumbass!" Gary felt the need to clarify just as loudly.

"Well, with those girlish hips of yours it's hard to tell!" Ash shot back derisively.

Gary gaped. "What did you just say to me?!"

"You look like a freakin' supermodel, Gary! It's weird!"

"That's because I'm fabulous!" he defended arrogantly, striking a pose.

Now this was just getting silly.

The insults were flying profoundly across the Oak property, the ridicule of Gary's perfectly slim and trim body not so gracefully meeting the ears of another individual, who, evidently, stumbled into something strangely worse than what he initially expected.

"Hey! What's going on out here?!"

Both boys froze in surprise, their heads gradually turning to find a serious and perplexed Brock before them, whose strong arms were folded over his chest. The look on his face read he wasn't about to entertain the likes of nonsense, cutting right through the buffoonery and straight to the heart of the problem.

Remaining stunned by his older friend's intrusion Ash's voice grew weak. "Oh." He blinked and gulped. "H-hi, Brock."

"Ash, what in the world are you doing?" Brock demanded, opening his arms up as he gestured to the now dripping nozzle in his grasp.

With a bite of his lip, Ash nervously glanced to the nozzle. What was he going to say? Certainly not the truth! The words struggled to come out, an anxious hand rubbing the back of his head as he babbled. "I uh- Gary-"

"We were just having some fun, _Brocky_," Gary cut in plainly, wiping the heavy drips of water off his arms. "I was hot so Ash offered to cool me down. And I believe Ash said he wanted a turn with the hose, too. Didn't you, Ashy?"

The wry grin appeared too fast for Ash to prepare for what was to come next. Approaching him, Gary willingly turned the hose on him, merciless soaking his cousin while he tried to hold back the sweet revenge he was indulging in. Unlike Gary, however, Ash remained still, frowning with furrowed eyebrows as the chilling water ran down his face and to his feet. He wasn't about to run around and scream like a girl, not to mention he was nearly scared stiff and tongue-tied by Brock's appearance.

Finally having his fill, Gary shut off the nozzle and tossed it onto the grass. From there, he looked to Ash once more, cocking a commanding eye. "Now that you're cooled off, would you mind topping off my lemonade for me?" he gestured to the near empty cup on the side table. "I'm starting to feel parched again. Oh, and bring a towel too, won't you?"

His teeth bit down onto his tongue, and Ash could feel the pain beginning to emerge. But with pure self-restraint he did not utter a single word as he passed his sneering cousin and snatched the cup with a rigid grip. Brock was left in the dark, completely baffled by what had just transpired, and now by Ash's obedient behavior to an order Gary could easily fulfill himself. Not wanting to let his friend slip away without an explanation, Brock pursued Ash and jogged to the teenager before stealthily stepping in front of him.

"Ash, Ash hold on a sec!" he beseeched, holding up a pair of addled hands. "What are you doing with Gary?"

Ash averted his eyes from Brock, discovering that Gary was watching carefully from the distance that now separated them. Then, his dark eyes fell to the ground. "Nothing, just... I owe him a couple of favors."

Brock frowned. "Favors? For what?"

It was a partial truth Ash had now told, and he wasn't about ready to reveal any more. He felt the pressure as time ticked by, unable to think of a decent enough fib on the spot. What he said wasn't a total lie... He just required a believable clarification for Brock to ease up, so he wouldn't become more suspicious than he already was...

"Just, uh..." Then, it came to him. "You know how I told you about the stuff my grandpa wanted me to sort through?"

"Yeah."

"Well, Gary wants some of it, too, seeing he's part of the family, and well- I didn't want him to have some of my dad's things he mentioned he'd take, so I'm doing him some lame favors in exchange." The forthwith semi-fabrication appeared to work some magic in Ash's favor, Brock huffing with a shake of his head at how impossible and mean Gary was being. Ash tried not to let his relief show, carrying on his story before Brock interrupted. "Believe me, Brock, if it was just meaningless, random junk, I wouldn't care. He could have it all. But they're my dad's things and I don't have much of anything that belonged to him or that was from him, so..."

"No," Brock breathed through his nostrils. "I get it, dude. I know it means a lot to you and you should be able to have what you'd like."

Then suddenly, his voice transformed into something sharp with concern as the genuine reprimanding started. "But Ash, this has got to stop at some point. I've been watching you all afternoon. First, you declined picking up lunch with Tracey and me, then, when we come back we saw you had disappeared for a while, then appeared with a dinky kiddie pool for Gary's _feet_? Then you hooked up all those hoses, found Gary a beach chair, and _ignored_ your Pokémon? I saw it all Ash.

"This guy who's letting Gary walk all over him and control him_ isn't_ you. I know you!" his voice rose with passion, hoping to work some sense into Ash's thick skull. "You would _never_ tolerate any of this garbage! Why don't you just tell him off? I'm sure your grandpa won't let Gary take your dad's stuff like that-"

"I don't want Grandpa getting in the middle of this," Ash replied, still trying to keep his cool. Even though all of Brock's words were beyond valid, and were starting to eat away at his conscious.

"It was a nice gesture and I don't want to upset him to the point where he thinks neither of us deserves any of it. Listen Brock, it's fine," Ash went on assuring calmly, easing his obviously upset friend. "Soon I'll have my dad's stuff and be done with whatever stupid crap Gary wants me to do. This is- this just really matters to me."

"I hear you, but I don't think you're looking at this from a rational perspective," the Pokémon-doctor-in-training insistently argued. From Ash's perspective, he could see where he was coming from, knowing that his father's prized possessions were important to the boy on a personal level. Brock also recognized Ash's avoidance in not dragging Richard into the mix, seeing he was someone who had little patience for childish games and banter. But there were _other_ ways to solve the problem. Plenty of solutions that did _not _involve accommodating to Gary.

Motioning to the brunette with a subtle tug of the head, Brock's voice grew slightly assertive. "Do you want me to talk to Gary? 'Cause I will."

"Brock, I can take care of myself," Ash reassured again, his agitation beginning to bloom. After all, he didn't want to be pegged as Gary's milquetoast puppet, behaving so timidly that he needed an intervention to free him from Gary's torment. He _chose_ to do this-

Of course, Brock didn't know the full picture.

"Why don't we just tell your mom?" the older trainer suggested openly, seeking other parental figures. "Or Prof. Oak! He's right in there and I'm pretty sure he'll put a stop to this-"

"NO!"

The booming refusal to be swayed left Brock astonished, silent with an agape mouth as he stared at a riled and anxious Ash. He didn't need Brock, he didn't need Prof. Oak, and he_ certainly_ didn't need his mommy to come to his rescue. That went without question. By his own motivation, Ash decided to seek what he wanted. The answer he was yearning to hold. Getting anything from his mom about his dad was a lost cause, and he knew that she or even Prof. Oak would put a stop to this before he even got the chance to uncover the truth. From Ash's perspective, it seemed as if everyone wanted to run away from the unknown while he raced towards it. The seduction to know was too overpowering for him to conquer, not when Ash was positive about the good man he remembered his father to be and that damn riddled letter forever plaguing his bleeding heart-

"I can handle this myself! I'm not a baby, and I don't need anyone to intervene and defend me! Now just stay out of it, Brock. Please!"

Right after the impassioned insistence shot through Ash's show of flustered teeth, he stormed off towards the house and left a staggered Brock to soak in the altercation. He barely had a chance to react, to get a hold of Ash and out of sincere worry ask why he was behaving so obstinately. Never had the two friends ever entangled themselves in a heated fight, confusing and troubling Brock all the more. He didn't want to permit Ash to walk off as if the conversation was through, but he knew it was for the best to let his young friend cool off.

Still Brock was left severely unsettled- even with the pitiful "please" Ash said at the end.

* * *

"So the sightings have been sporadic? I see... I appreciate your help more than I can express, Spencer. Tell Claire hello for me. And do not fret; I will let you know the minute Molly walks right into my lab. Yes. All right. Talk to you soon."

After hanging up the receiver, Prof. Oak sighed.

Standing by, Tracey watched the man, anxiously waiting to hear the news. Conjuring up the necessary need to lie, Sam bravely dialed in the number to his former intern's home in Greenfield. He would have thought someone such as Spencer Hale with his specializing in legendary Johto Pokémon and overall Pokémon phenomenon might be of some assistance to their dilemma of unlocking Giovanni's unfathomable intentions. Thankfully, Sam was right. Beyond grateful for Spencer's assistance the older man felt a twinge of remorse for fibbing as bluntly as he did. All of course went over Spencer's head, unsuspecting to the tale regarding Tracey's new apparent "desire" and "calling" to study legendary Pokémon. Nevertheless, Sam swallowed the guilt and allowed a relieved grin to burst from his lips.

It was the best answer their hunches had given them since the start.

Cocking an inquisitive eye, Tracey let his voice drag with excitement. "Sooo?"

Prof. Oak observed his assistant's lingering curiosity, swiveling in his chair to fully look at the boy. Sam smiled. "I think we might be on to something."

"Really?" he exclaimed, his voice rising with promise.

"As much as I hate to lie to Spencer about my questioning... I think I've snagged us some very helpful information," the professor replied, resting a hand underneath his chin.

"Like what?"

"Well, besides the common knowledge of Ho-Oh that we've already acquired, I may have gained some new information that might help connect the dots. As we know, Ho-Oh's main goal, or, should I say, _vision_, is for people and Pokémon to coexist peacefully together by whatever definition that may be. Now, after the unfortunate destruction of the original Tin Tower, we are aware of the legendary beasts' creations: Raikou, Entei, and Suicune. Spencer has been led to believe through his research that due to their loyalty to their ultimate creator that these Pokémon also follow a similar goal."

"_Meaning_?" Tracey persisted, wondering what point his mentor was attempting to make.

"Meaning they will appear when the dire fate of Pokémon and mankind are under attack, and therefore, attempt to restore peace," Prof. Oak concluded, the words rolling off his tongue as if they made perfect sense to him. His eyes then lightened, getting to the most important detail. "Now Spencer claims rumors have spread across Johto that sightings of the legendary beasts have crossed into the border of Kanto via Johto."

Sightings? As in actual_ eyewitness_ assertions had persistently grown across a given area? Closing in_ nearby_ to where Pallet settled? To where perhaps Giovanni might _execute_ his ungodly mission?

Stunned, Tracey tried to glean from the professor's findings. "So do you think they're making an appearance because of what Giovanni has in mind?"

"I can't say they're mind readers, but they must sense some form of foreboding destructive forces," Prof. Oak responded definitely, folding his arms over his chest. "Especially if Ho-Oh is involved..."

That was a logical point. The best one they made yet during their few weeks of research. Evidently Giovanni wasn't going to let any pieces fall for them to put together so easily. He had woven his calculations beautifully in a dastardly success at concealment, as if teasing them as they tried to formulate an answer before it was too late. The demand for Ho-Oh and now the perchance of luring the legendary beasts as well... Or were they just another a form of bait to bring the great phoenix to his knees?

"Well, if we know Giovanni has some purpose for Ho-Oh then it's likely the legendary beasts could be needed, too," Tracey managed to state, his thoughts positive as the likelihood became graspable.

"It is quite possible. Which makes me think for certain that Giovanni's plans are much different than what his mother tried to execute, considering only Ho-Oh was required...and this also concerns me that what could happen may be far worse than what Jayce has previously gone through."

With a meditative crease to his brows and forehead, Prof. Oak's voice wandered with presaging concern and dread. As Jay had told the older man before, Giovanni was a craftier criminal to analyze and fool, one that had proven to go to drastic and frightening heights to get what he so boldly desired. He was a master at concealing secrets, and not to their knowledge creating a convincing enough bluff. Even Tracey, who had little experience with Team Rocket's crime boss, was starting to feel the foreshadowing doom they and the legendaries could be faced with.

"Kind of gives you the chills, doesn't it?" the Pokémon watcher shuddered, bothered by the unknown. Eventually after his remark, Tracey's eyes traveled over to a pensive Brock, who was seated on the living room sofa, a silent participant in the conversation.

"What do you think, Brock?" When he didn't respond once a few seconds passed, Tracey raised a brow and continued to observe Brock stare blankly across the coffee table. Adjusting his throat, he called for him again. "Brock? _Brock_?"

The hinting jab for attention in Tracey's voice finally snapped Brock back into focus. His gaze flew up to his puzzled friend, though it was evident that his eyes still bore a stoic glimmer of deep thought. "Hmm?" he said, sounding unaware of what had been discussed.

Noticing such, Tracey gave him an odd look. "Were you listening at all, Brock?"

_Listening?_ After coming in from outside, his mind was so consumed with Ash's earlier outburst of defense and strange insistence to be left alone, Brock had forgotten all about Prof. Oak's hopeful call to Spencer. Luckily, thanks to the professor, Brock had at last been filled in on the full details regarding Jay's past with Team Rocket, which he was more than shell-shocked to hear. So flabbergasted he was beside himself for a good few days, until he recently scrounged up the composure to continue aiding Prof. Oak and Tracey. Then came Ash's odd behavior. His sudden lack of interest in Ho-Oh and his willingness to serve Gary and his absurd requests, despite the rational idea that the situation could be rectified by a number of options...

And despite the fact that Ash wasn't acting like himself.

Worry pooling in his mind, Brock swallowed and returned Tracey an apologetic expression. "I'm sorry, Tracey. I was uh- distracted. Something's up between Ash and Gary," he brought up, briefly explaining his rightful woes. "And it's kinda rubbing me the wrong way."

Now also perturbed, Tracey wanted to jump in and delve into further questions, only to be stopped by his mentor. "I think we all are a bit out of sorts today," Prof. Oak proclaimed, he himself feeling stressed and hypersensitive by his surroundings. It was beyond understandable given their position in the mess.

"And because of that, we don't have time to referee between what I presume to be another one of Ash and Gary's petty squabbles. If Giovanni is truly plotting something bigger than what we anticipated then getting a hold of Jayce is our number one priority. However..."

Sam didn't intend for his words to sound so harsh. Laying out their problems as they were, solving and stopping a crime boss from causing havoc sounded twice as pressing than that of sorting out teenage dramas. By his own personal experience with the boys in the past, it was nothing more than a silly issue that wasn't worth his time presently. His concerns were too clouded, hardly any wonderment in his heart and mind to explore the speculation Brock expressed. His impending fears of what Giovanni might try and where Jayce and the others were...

Why they hadn't answered a single call in over a week.

Taking note of Sam's silence and stoic stare, Tracey spoke solemnly. "You're worried about them, aren't you, professor?" deduced the assistant with lowered brows.

Steadily, Sam nodded. "Very much indeed."

"You think something happened to them?"

"Possibly," he answered gravely, hating the idea. "Up until now getting a hold of Drake has been easy. There should be no reason as to why they wouldn't answer. Unless Team Rocket- I would think after all this time with Jayce holding his own," the professor hurriedly contradicted himself, "they'd be safe for the most part." A sigh fell from his mouth again. "I suppose I'll try calling them again."

Knowing deep down his efforts were useless, the professor suppressed his doubts and went ahead and reached for the phone- only to have a ring go off. Eyes widened in surprise, his fingertips inches away from touching the receiver. If it was whom he hoped it was at such an ironic moment, Sam swore his heart would tear right out of his chest. The number sequence was similar to the beginning of every Pokémon Center's in Kanto, which was a sign he was ready to be foolishly optimistic about.

Snatching the phone, Prof. Oak answered the call frantically and turned on the video screen. "Hello? Jayce?" His expression brightened at the sight of the familiar face. Then, dampened. "What in Ho-Oh's name has prevented you from answering my calls? And where have you been? You look quite disheveled!"

"I'm sorry for our delayed response, Sam," Jay replied, running a hand through his wild locks. He knew he didn't look as clean as he would have preferred. Sighing, the man proceeded to explain the situation. "To make a long story short, Team Rocket threw us off our course from Cerulean and now we're trying to get to Lavender Town."

"Lavender Town?" the professor echoed in befuddlement. "If you started in Saffron it's not that far away. And I thought you were originally going to Cerulean? To get here _faster_-"

"I know," Jay sighed, growing irritable of the nagging. "It's taking us longer to get there _because_ of Team Rocket. They've been on our tail this entire time, which has made it impossible to get to any town. And there was no cell reception anywhere."

All was now elucidated enough for Sam to comprehend Jay and the others' hindered reply. However, it did nothing in making up for his sleepless nights and easing the trepidation he materialized in his head. It had been what- over a good week since he heard from Jay? Though with the high risk of possible causalities, it felt like _months_ since he received a single reassuring word. It was no wonder Sam was engulfed in nightmares and could barely keep his cool with impending horrors terrorizing his mind.

Rubbing his temple, Prof. Oak breathed out heavily. "Dare I ask for further details?" After the countless times Jay had recounted his near death experiences, the professor preferred to not hear of any more life-threatening tales, or he was sure his protective side and common sense would vanquish his former student's prolonged attempt at stopping Giovanni.

And Jay understood this perfectly. Considering Team Rocket was now pursuing Misty and Drake as if for sport.

"I would refrain if I were you."

Looking up, Sam graying brows narrowed with the start of a lecturing tone. "Jayce, I am not going to take this matter lightly. You know what's at stake. Better than I do! Now, _tell_ _me_ you're all safe."

"We are," Jay assured, glancing over his shoulder for a second. "We're in Silver Town now, close to Lavender Town. It's taken us over a week to get here. That's how bad Team Rocket's efforts have been. Listen, I'll still spare you from the details, but I need you to know that because we've taken an unfortunate detour it's going to take us longer to get to the Indigo Plateau."

"I was afraid of hearing such." His frown sunk into his wrinkling skin. Sam fathomed the unintentional predicament without debate, though that did not remedy the sticky situation they were submersed in nor ease the presence of Jay's son outside his lab which was already bothersome to his persistent worries. Then there was the constant running into Delia, feeling on edge, hardly able to carry on a normal conversation with her knowing _who_ he was speaking to on a regular basis...

Centering himself with stern eyes, Prof. Oak pressed for resolve. "I hate to sound like a broken record, but Jayce, time_ is_ of the essence. Brock, Tracey, and I can only put off telling Delia and Ash for so long."

Like he needed that reminder.

"_I know_."

"So what I'm saying is- Is that _Molly_?"

Caught off guard by the professor's gaping open mouth and stiff facial muscles, Jay turned in his seat. He spotted the girl chatting up an effervescent storm with his brother, while Misty was in the midst of jumping for glee for she was finally able to have her water Pokémon sent over from her sisters. From there, he nonchalantly gazed back at Sam. Though he knew he was going to get another beating of words for this newest development.

"Oh, yeah," he said quietly. "About that..."

As it all hit him like a ton of bricks, Prof. Oak released a moan, smudging his hand up and down his face as he sat beside himself. "Oh, for Arceus's sake, Jayce, one day you're libel to give me a heart attack!"

"Hey, it's not like I wanted her to tag along," Jay barked in return, not feeling responsible for the girl's sudden appearance. "She spared us from Team Rocket, claiming she was on her way to see _you_, so it was no wonder we crossed paths. And it's bad enough she has this annoying fascination with Drake-"

"I just got off the phone with her _father _collecting further research for _you_, and I doubt he'd be ecstatic to hear about her getting mixed up in a mission to stop a Pokémon crime lord!" Sam rebutted, not in the mood to tolerate any more twists and turns, much less Jay's tenacious combative side.

Before a verbal quarrel could escalate, Jay begrudgingly chose to level Sam's agitation. He felt the guilt from burdening Sam for as long as he had, though it was the professor's choice to help; Jay never made him feel obligated to do such, besides the obvious vulnerability and fright in his eyes those many years ago.

"Listen, I'll take care of her," he eased in a calmer voice, "I promise. I've kept Misty fed and halfway sane; I can probably manage to look after another one."

"_Probably_?" Prof. Oak gaped.

"I'm not a miracle worker," Jay remarked with a playful dose of wit, trying to lighten the conversation. Then, before Sam could scold him for his joking manner, the master swiftly changed the subject. "You said something about research from Spencer?"

The professor shook his head, also refocusing. "Uh- yes." Bickering wasn't his intent either, solving the overwhelming quandary was. Even if Sam was running dry on patience and sanity.

As things at last settled down, the doorbell to the lab abruptly rang into the living room. It distracted the scrambled professor, shooting his gaze back and forth from the video screen and in the direction of the front door. Stepping in at the right time, Tracey finally made noise and mouthed he'd get the door, hurriedly scurrying to the entrance as Prof. Oak focused back onto Jay.

"What he has uncovered is quite tantalizing," Sam began once more. "If my assumptions are correct, then perhaps Giovanni requires not only Ho-Oh, but the legendary beasts-"

"Uh, professor?" a meek voice from behind him piped up, but Prof. Oak kept on rambling. The man's voice was muffled, however Tracey started squirming violently as the new presence in the lab wished to merge to speak with the renowned researcher. Adjusting his throat in an almost obnoxious way, Tracey scurried to his mentor's side and hissed: "_Professor._"

Sam stopped in the middle of his rant, slightly irked as he swiveled in his chair. "Yes, what is it, Tracey?" he snapped a little, clenching the receiver close to his ear.

"_Mrs. Ketchum_ is here to see you," the assistant replied with a gesture of glancing eyes and a cringing smile over to the entrance. "And she brought over some of the herbs you asked for earlier this week."

At first, the distracted professor blinked until he registered the implied hinting embedded in Tracey's voice. Quivering and panicked fingers immediately tuned off the video screen, barely keeping his cover intact as Tracey invited Delia to waltz into the living corridors. He hoped to God Delia hadn't heard _or_ seen anything.

Casting a welcoming smile upon his face, Prof. Oak steadily rose from his chair and carried on as if he was expecting her company. "Ah, yes!" he said, sounding delighted. "Uh- hello there, Mrs. Ketchum!" Instantly, a long stagnant beep rang in Prof. Oak's ears, indicating the line had been hung up. It wasn't much of surprise to him, given how uncomfortable Jay behaved when Sam mentioned Delia had come by.

So Sam played along, acting as if he still had someone on the line waiting for him- a fellow researcher perhaps to make his performance seem believable. "I was just finishing a phone call with a colleague of mine- Oh what do you know, you have to go?" he replied into the phone, his one shining moment in acting prevailing. "I'll send you those reports later, then. B-bye now."

"Hi, professor," Delia greeted as the professor hung up the device, keeping up with the formal interaction. "I brought you the rosemary and basil from my garden as promised." She grinned loosely at this point, slightly raising the full woven basket resting in the crook of her arm. Then, her bright expression dimmed for a moment, noticing the open books spread across the older man's desk. "I'm sorry if I'm dropping in at a bad time-"

"Not at all. You're always welcome," he quickly assured. On every other occasion his words were true, but considering the given circumstances this was one of the very worst instances for Delia to innocently stumble in unannounced. Though Sam never wished to make his former student feel unwelcome in the lab, prompting him to continue behaving as if all was well and to have the kids, in his eyes, skedaddle before any questions were raised.

Now turning his attention back to the anxious trainers, Prof. Oak tucked his arms behind his back and formed his own smile with a discreet code for action to take place. "Tracey," he started warmly, "why don't you and Brock go check on the new grass Pokémon from Kalos that I've introduced into the grass sanctuary?"

Unsteadily, Tracey nodded, catching on. "Oh, uh sure. C'mon, Brock, I'll show you the way."

The boys' steps were rigid at first, eventually stabilizing their pace as they wandered to the front door. Neither one had any doubts that Prof. Oak couldn't handle a clearly oblivious Delia, but still, the remnants of research lying about concerned them regarding what might happen if the woman innocently inquired, only for the professor to fumble somehow.

Keeping their worries contained, Brock and Tracey left quietly, Tracey peeping through the crack of the door in Prof. Oak's view before closing it completely. Once she heard the door click Delia's expression dampened, becoming hesitant from the scattered books that were an eyesore to the room. Brock and Tracey must have been aiding him, was her initial thought, and so she felt terrible for barging in on short notice.

"I'm really sorry if I'm intruding, Sam," she said, dropping the formalities. "I should have called to ask if this was a good time."

"No, no. It's quite all right," Sam said with a wave of his hand. "I needed Tracey to go check on that new habitat for me, anyway. Now while you're here, would you care for an iced tea and some shortbread cookies before we dive right into- whatever it is we wish to converse about?" he offered openly, baring a tiny grin.

She smiled and nodded. "That would be great."

Right away after complimenting the woman on her beautiful herbs, he strayed into the kitchen with them, leaving Delia to make herself comfortably at home on the sofa in the living quarters. She could hear the sound of a fridge door opening and closing, then followed the cracking open of a bottle. Delia crossed her legs at her ankles as she waited patiently, hands settled in her lap as her eyes bounced around the room. Eventually Sam meandered back into the den, carefully carrying a Bellsprout and Venonat decorated tray holding all the essentials for their little snack. The clear glasses filled with unsweetened tea quaked gently as Sam placed the tray onto the coffee table, standing across Delia as he gestured towards the supplied sugar packets and a mini Miltank cream pitcher.

"Cream or sugar?" he offered.

"Cream, please."

A short drop of pure white bliss tumbled into Delia's glass, then clasping the chilled cup he handed the woman her beverage. Sam wasn't nearly as thirsty as her though, instead reaching for the dish of cookies he scrounged up, and soon took a bite from the- not so hard crust as he predicted.

Stopping midway through her first sip, Delia looked up at the paused professor in confusion. "Is something wrong?"

"No," he chortled dryly, placing the bitten dessert into a napkin, "just that these cookies are stale. I suppose Tracey and I have been so busy, I haven't gotten around to sorting through our food much less buy some!"

"I know how that can be," she chuckled softly. "It's okay, Sam. Tea's just fine."

"All right then."

For a moment, silence claimed the room; Sam scooting the dish full of rancid treats aside, while Delia grasped her iced tea with a small swallow of liquid in between. At first glimpse, the professor didn't think much of his former student's sudden presence, but now was growing suspicious for she was quiet, but not as calm as she would ordinarily appear. Her movements made it seem as if Delia was restless, and as to why Sam couldn't figure out.

In time, Delia broke the awkward quietness and smiled. "I see Ash and Gary are getting along," she took note, implying that she had seen the boys on her way over to the lab. "Hopefully, they haven't been causing a ruckus for you."

"Oh no, the boys have been fine. A little too fine perhaps... But it's been quite tranquil for once that I don't want to jinx it."

If it was any other day, Prof. Oak supposed he'd investigate the boys' sudden change in tune of behavior, as Brock had expressed with worry. However, he was far too preoccupied trying to decipher a criminal's intentions and the father of the boy who constantly left him stupefied- and with that, Sam meant both the boy _and_ the father. Of course, he couldn't say anything of the sort to the mother and wife sitting across from him.

"It's definitely good," Delia agreed, her nodding prolonged with dashing eyes.

Now Sam knew something had to be on her mind. Granted, he never was known for receiving compliments regarding his lack of parenting skills (and neither could he argue such). But the disciplined professor did know a thing or two about behavior. After all, his life work had been studying the interactions between humans and Pokémon, their overall reactions and bonds that would form within given environments and certain stimuli. Plus the fact that Sam knew Delia since she was learning how to walk to when she'd get sidetracked in his classes. The past recollection alone almost made the older man laugh at how fast time had flown and that some of his students still had not changed.

Within that brief flashback there was Chad, his only son snoring with the textbook placed over his face. Annie, completely bored out of her mind as she chewed on her pencil. Zelda, forever taking diligent notes that any other normal human being would give up from the continual hand cramp. And Delia, too submersed in thought about the handsome, stoic boy sitting by the window instead of paying attention to a lecture based upon the mandible physiological changes between the Rattata in Kanto vs. Johto, regarding the differences in the rat's incisors for chomping down on the main sources of nuts provided in the native areas.

In comparison to that daydream-like stare she once bore, it was obviously not the same as the look Delia was currently wearing. There was just something off in her eyes solely, the dancing around of jittery glances prompting Prof. Oak to cut to the chase.

Setting his drink down, Sam clasped his hands and folded them in his lap. "So Delia, what did you come over here to talk about?"

It took her a couple of seconds to respond, blinking as if she snapped back into reality. "Oh, I just wanted to visit," Delia answered briskly, pushing a strand of auburn hair behind her ear.

Sam gave her a look. "Delia, I may be over fifty and qualified for a senior citizen discount, but my natural senses have not failed me to notice the obvious. Now please, tell me, is something troubling you? Is it about Ash?"

Delia shook her head. "Oh, no."

Her face was flushed with mild embarrassment at her sad attempt at avoiding the reason she originally came by. Glancing up, she saw the bit of surprise in Sam's face that her explanation for dropping in weren't for the obvious. It was more along the lines of a subject she refrained from speaking of, and certainly hadn't discussed the matter with her former instructor in years. After all, the last time they conversed heavily over such delicate words Delia wasn't even in the right frame of mind to sensibly react without anger brewing in her heart.

Hesitation was written across her mouth, lips trembling as they opened, but then falling back shut. Sam sat back with anticipation, knowing eventually it would come one way or another. So he gave the young mother her time, another flickering of chestnut eyes and adjusting of hair before Delia settled herself with a fidgety grin.

"Um- it's not going to come out easy for me but... I was wondering if you could help me with something."

Two distinct gray brows rose. "What's your proposal?"

"Sam, I-" She swallowed, feeling the burn of anxiety in the back of her throat. But no longer having the regret as she breathed it out. Not after that. Not after looking at that letter again.

Not after crying for the hundredth time.

"I want to find Jay."

Instantly, the professor froze. Aside from the usual headache his tired mind would give him from countless read pages, Sam's thoughts now spun in a twisted violent motion, much worse than what his worn eyes and aching nerves so kindly gave him out of exhaustion. He was floored by Delia's announcement, utterly gob smacked that she at last found the courage to find her husband.

Sam could feel Delia's eyes on him, studying him as the shock sunk in. Between a raised pulse and blood pressure soaring incredible heights, the older man cautiously calmed himself down with an unsteady poker face. The news was simply too much for him to take in!

"_You do_?" he finally croaked.

A small breath fell from Delia's mouth, relieved of his response. She was dreading how Sam would react, if he would tell her it was a waste of time or that she missed her opportunity years ago. The surprise was something she could deal with.

"Yes," Delia breathed again. "I know it may seem like the timing's random and that I should've taken action a long time ago... To be perfectly honest, I've wanted to find him for quite some time."

The young woman's gaze drifted back to her chilled cup, eyes transfixed on the dark cold liquid with a splash of cream. Saying all of this aloud for her own ears to hear was just as startling for herself. Allowing the fear of the unknown to conquer wouldn't be allowed for another painstaking round. No. The absolute feeling of relief jolted through her body, feeling liberated that she had been honest with not only herself but another person on the matter of her estranged husband. On the late afternoon of her anniversary, sitting there with Ash, who, while saying nothing of the sort, appeared to crave the truth as much as she did...

"I've been too afraid to go looking," she went on confessing, her voice faltering between meek and strong. "But I want to now. Somehow. I know I can't just up and leave town, and a part of me is still hesitant about this, so-"

Here came the inevitable.

"I was wondering if you could assist me. I know it's a lot to ask, and I don't expect you to comply given the amount of work you're constantly submersed in. I just miss Jayce so much. And- quite a while ago... I got a letter from him."

Sam felt his throat become extremely dry, and he was certain the iced liquid nestled on the tray couldn't fix it. He was shocked. His body was frozen stiff, postured forward with his cramped hands awkwardly entwined together as if he was unable to release them from their hold. There was an internal struggle to process Delia's request, leaving him lost on how to respond. On a whim of thought Sam once wondered if this little charade of lies would tumble down eventually, by his hands or by Jayce's...or by Delia's hauntingly curious and desperate mind.

Sputtering, Sam vanquished his drawn out pause. "A-a letter?" He was trying to repress the minor tremors his nerves had acquired from Giovanni's plans. From the explosive possibility that could touch and destroy more than just those who were involved...

A small, sheepish smile formed on Delia's lips. "I couldn't believe it myself." She drew her focus back to the glass balanced in her grasp, her smile fading. "From what it said... Something wasn't right. In his language, the tone of the note. I'm worried Jay's in some kind of trouble. He said that he couldn't tell me why he left- that something was keeping us apart...

"He did say, though, that one day he _will_ come back. I don't know what it means. How long I'll have to wait." She shrugged depressingly. Cloudy chestnut eyes eventually flickered up, lips pulling back as the words pounding to be released at last fell from her quivering lips. "And honestly, I don't want to wait anymore, Sam. I want him back. I want him _so_ badly I can't stop thinking about him. I have to see him. I have to _know_ why. For me and for Ash..."

This whole conversation haunted Sam's guilty conscious. The begging, the confusion, the desperation to unveil the truth... It was all beginning to feel too familiar, and this time, the professor didn't think he could run from the impending reality.

Rotten Sam was starting to feel inside, as if he was responsible for the women's ongoing grief and desperate frustration of her family's crumbling. If he could blurt out in honesty and at least relieve himself of this agonizing burden, by God, Sam was willing to disclose everything. But he couldn't. Not yet, anyway. The timing wasn't exactly ideal. It might have seemed like the perfect opportunity initially. Although, springing such startling news indicated not only that Sam had withheld Delia's husband's whereabouts from her, but that his lies demonstrated he might not be of the upstanding character she perceived him to be. A neighbor and friend she could away trust... Blame couldn't be placed upon Delia if she ever felt that way, _when_ she was ready to feel that way, to know the horrifying reality her husband accidentally stumbled into and that it all had been concealed from her...

She was reaching out for aid, the strength Jay said Delia possessed so majestically finally collapsing as she clung to what she could for comfort. Enough time had passed. It was time to put the disheartening silence to bed, to give her something more than wishful thinking or condolences. Delia had been strong for so long, more than most were capable of enduring; treading through life as she raised her son all by herself, soaking in all his questions while she struggled to understand the answers. She needed peace. She deserved to know the dark truth.

Delia deserved to move on and, if possible, start over with Jay.

"Delia, I-"

A croak emerged as Prof. Oak struggled to reply, leaving Delia innocently watchful of his mannerisms. He had to handle this delicately. _Tactfully._

Pausing, Sam answered slowly. "Let me see what I can do. I can't promise anything but- I will do what I can."

"Really, Sam?" she perked, dampening eyes lightening with a faint twinge of hope. "Because you don't have to go to all this trouble if you don't want to-"

"I do. I- I would like to help you find Jayce, more than I can express. However... I think it's something we should tackle after the party at the inn," he decided, taking in all factors. That and it was the original plan to reveal Jay's whereabouts to Delia, before she beat him to the punch. "I can do some digging, make some calls, but right now I think it's best for you to channel your efforts into the celebration. You've worked so hard, I wouldn't want you to be sidetracked. Let me handle it. Once everything settles down, I will tell you what I managed to find-_ if_ I find out anything."

Sounding too eager that he would successfully unveil a drop of helpful information would raise suspicions quickly. So the professor chose his words carefully, reserved but mildly enthusiastic enough to assure Delia he truly wanted to assist her in her last-ditch behest. Examining the whole picture, _this_ was the easy part. The actual explaining of what he knew and _how_ he knew with so much clarity and certainty...

Delia nodded, agreeing with the professor's proposal. "Of course, I couldn't agree more." It seemed her heart was still tangled with another concern, the minimal hopeful smile she bore drifting again as she shyly made her final request. "And if you wouldn't mind, Sam- could we keep this between us until I'm ready to tell Ash? I don't want to get his hopes up if- I don't want to hurt him if God forbid..."

What sounded like a soft choke of a cry indicated Prof. Oak of Delia's foreboding concerns, feeling ashamed that this poor woman was to presage her husband's possible demise and that she felt the need to continually shield her son from any afflictions to his own heart regardless of the state of her own...

Calmly, he stretched his arm out and placed a hand tenderly on her hand. "You don't even need to ask, Delia. This can stay between us until you're ready to tell him."

"You don't know how much this means to me, Sam," she said behind watery eyes.

Sam's grip tightened against her hand. _ I think I do._


	18. Embracing the Heart to Find the Loss

**Author's Note: **Hello my lovely readers! Can you guys seriously believe it's almost Thanksgiving? I can't! It feels like the time has flown by so quickly since I posted my last chapter. Life has just been incredibly busy for me and my beta reader these last couple of months. Hopefully next month, things will slow down a bit.

Thank you all once again for your amazing reviews and patience! :) It means a lot. And I'm thankful to have a new reviewer; BlackPsych, thanks again for another terrific and in-depth review! My beta reader and I thank you immensely. :) We try our best to give you guys a clean and precise product, so I'm happy to hear everybody's been enjoying it. And gotta say, I'm glad Guest: Heather caught onto the song reference in chapter seventeen's title. ;p It was BEGGING me to put it in. Totally Jay's song. It's official. lol

As of now chapters nineteen and twenty are with my beta reader. As the story progresses, Molly, being a new addition to the team, will definitely have some development, not to mention the secrets everyone is holding on to are only going to get more complicated! ;)

I am happy to announce starting this week, I have my Thanksgiving break. Now I'll have some time to tackle chapter twenty-one. Yay! Then after that, I have finals week and with my time off in December, I will try to get as much writing done. We are getting so close to a major development in the story, it's been absolutely exciting to write!

Now please enjoy the new installment. :)

**DISLCAIMER: **_Pokémon_ belongs to Satoshi Tajiri. My oc's belong to me.

* * *

**Sunlight's Return**

**Chapter 18**

_"Embracing the Heart, to Find the Loss"_

He was nearly late.

Gary had decided to be extra kind and insist for Ash to rearrange his personal collage of his achievements and photos throughout the years, as if rubbing his victories in his cousin's face. Nonetheless, Ash put his best foot forward and begrudgingly completed the task. After that, he and Pikachu left Gary's house as fast as they could and met up with Brock to jaunt over to Emily and Richard's residence. He was thankful not to receive a dose of questioning from Brock, their conversations light and pleasant as they sauntered from his house and up the winding road. After their previous squabble at the Oak Lab, Brock chose his words carefully around Ash, and decided to keep himself out of the strange agreement his friend made with the notoriously smug Gary. In doing so, all returned back to normal between the two, other than the nagging thought to intervene in the back of Brock's mind. But he dismissed it persistently every time Ash mysteriously left the house, and now was at ease knowing that they were going to retrieve the items Ash seemed so protective of that he'd go as far as to be Gary's personal butler for as long as he had.

And that _still _didn't make sense to Brock.

If anything was discussed, Ash had discreetly leaked to Brock of his earlier disturbances with Gary, seeing the incident at the inn was safe to discuss verses the new web he entangled himself in. Brock of course listened attentively to Ash's shocking tale of the blazing burger, hardly sympathetic to Gary's burning mouth. Silently he was disappointed in Ash's action, though relieved to know his friends saw the wrongdoing in his actions and supposedly took charge by being Delia's classic recommendation: 'the bigger person.'

But what intrigued Brock the most was not the hurtful comments Gary made and Ash's retaliation. It was _why_ Gary said what he said.

"So you're saying Gary was acting like a jerk when his girlfriend, Harper, was present?" Brock asked as they briskly walked up the road, wearing an analytical expression as he tried to stay up to speed with the incident.

"Yeah," Ash responded, with Pikachu perched on his shoulder, who was quietly enjoying the mild breeze fluttering against the summer air.

"And he _purposely_ kept bringing up the girlfriend cracks?"

"Yeah."

"Hmm..." A thoughtful hand rested underneath Brock's chin. He was like that for a minute or two, Ash peering at him from the side. Eventually, Brock removed his hand and appearing certain in his conclusion, placed a firm hand on his friend's shoulder. "Ash, I think this is a case of a jealous heart."

_A jealous heart? What does that mean?_

"Huh?"

Reading the obvious confusion taking over Ash's face, Brock was not all surprised by it. "It's obvious when you think about it: Gary was being insecure."

This left Ash more puzzled than before. "'Bout what?" he shrugged. "They were just having lunch. What could have possibly made him feel insecure?"

Brock shook his head and sighed. Here he went again, playing big brother to topics Ash was in need of understanding as a growing and hopefully _maturing_ young man. "Ash, listen carefully," he started slowly. "Gary has a _girlfriend_."

Annoyance rang out of Ash's throat at the obvious emphasis in Brock's tone. "Yeah, _I know_. What of it?"

"Was she being nice to you?" Brock threw back unexpectedly. "And smiling, talking, and laughing with you?"

"Yes, but so what?" he responded, unfazed. "Can't two people just get along?"

Ah, young, naïve Ash. If only things were that simple. When one came a certain age, social interactions changed as well. While he had made many strides forward, Brock figured Ash was still somewhat sophomoric in the world of dating, to fully comprehend the signals young men and women gave off during their first exploration of love. Ash was just beginning to grasp his newfound endearment for Misty, which, being the love doctor he was, Brock suspected would sooner or later take flight.

Stepping in front of him, Brock cut to the chase. "Ash, Gary probably thought you were_ flirting_ with her. Or that _she_ was flirting with you."

The bombshell seemed to be a shock to Ash's system, his voice cracking as he grasped the news with a flushed face. Seeing this, Brock was relieved he finally got through to his friend, until the older trainer paused for a moment. The reddening of the face, the darting of the eyes, and the silence…it wasn't guilt speaking, was it?

Looming in, he cocked a peculiar eyebrow. "You _weren't _flirting,_ right_?" Brock dared to double-check.

Ash's eyes widened, his voice at last breaking out into a defensive yell. "_W-with Harper_? Heck no! At least not on purpose! I've never even thought about her that way! N-not that she's ugly, 'cause she's not, but I _definitely_ don't have any feelings for her. I hardly know her. Uggh, why would Gary think something so stupid?"

In frustration, the teenager's hands massaged over his face, mumbling unintelligible grumbles as he preceded forward. Pikachu cooed to his trainer out of comfort, and then, calmly, Brock followed Ash and in pursuit, relaxed the boy out of the flustered state he unintentionally wrapped him into.

"Ash, my friend," Brock started with a hint of wisdom in his voice, "boys can be a tad insecure when their relationship with a girl is threatened by the presence of another male. It's primal instinct 101," he elucidated nonchalantly, wagging his index finger.

On the contrary, Ash didn't think of his friend's findings to be anything close to common knowledge. _Jeez, how was I supposed to know?_

Once he put his own insecurities aside, and bitterly accepted he let this one go right over his head all these years, Ash was led to believe Brock's interpretation of events...made sense. Actually, the more Ash thought about it, the more Gary's actions became clear to him. From their previous passing of greetings, the boys were relatively on decent terms; polite chitchat would ensue and then end with a casual farewell. There was hardly ever a stir of animosity, until the day Gary strolled in with his brand new girlfriend. It seemed as if Gary wanted to control the conversation and had fallen silent whenever Harper felt inclined to flash a smile and friendly discussion Ash's way.

It still didn't make sense why Gary wanted Ash to call Harper for him- _unless_ Gary believed his cousin was in her good favors, that she _liked_ him enough to possibly listen.

Basking in his shocking discovery, Ash paused for a few seconds before slowly turning his attention back to Brock. "So let me get this straight: Gary was _jealous _of _me_?" he said as if the startling news was still sinking in.

"In a sense, if he found you to be a rival for Harper's affections," Brock replied.

Buried arrogance began to steadily surface in the creeping of a smug look upon Ash's face, one in which the Pokémon-doctor-in-training caught onto speedily. And so, as swiftly as he noticed his young companion's impending glee, Brock distinguished his thrill of immature pride before words were born.

"Now Ash, don't let this go to your head," he admonished with a sharp eye.

"I'm not," Ash assured, trying to hide the ornery smirk pulling from his lips. "But you have made my day a little better."

With that, the dark haired teenager wandered past Brock as if the conversation was through. Brock wasn't so easily fooled, though, as he followed with a frown. "Even so, don't go saying this around Gary. I think you'll just get into more trouble."

"I won't, I won't," Ash waved, unmoved by the sternness in Brock's voice. "But it does kinda feel good, though, knowing for once that Gary's jealous of me." The concept of Gary seeing Ash as an equal rival in anything was simply too sublime not to grin about, and he was full of too much juvenile bliss to let it pass.

Shaking his head in return, Brock rolled his eyes._ He's _always_ been insecure of you, Ash_, he sighed internally. _Maybe I said too much…_.

Thinking such, Brock permitted the talk to end and soon the young men arrived at the senior Ketchum residence. Entering the property, Brock observed the tall and intimidating black gates securing the area. He was more perturbed than Ash, who seemed to joyfully jaunt towards the house without giving the hauntingly posh building a second thought. Evidently, he was accustomed to their surroundings, except for the extraordinary building that was once his father's home. It was not a mansion by any means, but it was a decent-sized home that could house three times as many people as he and his mother could. That much left Ash in wonderment, the one thing both he and Brock could not get over by its architecture rich in expenses and history.

Their silent marveling did not last long, for Ash took liberty in ringing the doorbell. Only a couple of seconds went by before someone answered the door, and the person answering the signal was that not of his grandparents or the Kalos maid Ash had been introduced to a few weeks ago.

"You're not Madeline." Ash's declaration was more in surprise than stating the obvious.

"I'm Gretchen," the woman announced blandly, appearing less than thrilled to be working.

Ash blinked. "Oh. I'm uh, here to see my grandma. Mrs. Ketchum," he clarified.

"Mrs. Ketchum is in the living room," she explained, and then with her dull expression she abandoned the entrance.

He was now frowning, and soon the teenager leaned in just slightly into the frame of the wide entrance. "O-okay," Ash managed to sputter, addled by her sudden exit.

"New maid?" Brock presumed, looking just as perplexed.

He shrugged. "Apparently."

It was inevitable to assume any maid could fully pass his grandmother's unrealistic expectations, no matter how competent and tactful one was at their job. Ash wondered how many times Emily uttered the words "you're fired" since the start of her marriage with Richard, which as a result,_ also_ made the teenager wonder exactly how many maids had gone in and out of his grandparents' historical and large home. Evidently, like many others, Madeline and her pristine training from Kalos had been booted off the Senior Ketchums' less-than-magical island of peace and paradise.

So with the door left open and the new hired help scurrying off to whatever it was she was previously doing, Ash and Brock invited themselves in.

Closing the door, Brock appeared deep in thought, the face of the maid known as Gretchen not leaving his mind. "Hmm..." Eventually, he perked and cocked an eyebrow at his friend. "Why doesn't your grandma ever hire hot maids?"

His blatant question caused both of Ash's eyebrows to rise. He should have seen that question coming. Now thinking about it, Gretchen was much older than Madeline by her looks alone, and just comparing the two side-by-side in his head by appearances solely... "You would have liked Madeline," the raven-haired teenager soon teased with a smile.

Behaving bummed as if he had a prospect to earn any kind of fondness for the maid on the slim chance he visited _earlier_, Brock drooped his head and whimpered. "Aww, man!"

"I wonder where Grandpa is?" Ash swiftly pondered, dismissing Brock's low cry of disappointment as he glanced about.

"Your grandma would probably know," the older trainer replied as he moped.

They didn't have to wait for an exceptional amount of time, for the sound of heels hitting the carpeted floor led into the hardwood entrance. Apparently, while Gretchen wasn't born with Brock's physical standards of beauty, she was a decent enough worker to inform her employer of guests.

Smiling softly, Ash waved to his approaching grandmother. "Hi, Grandma."

"Ash! You're right on time," she said warmly, now standing near them. From there, Emily's attention immediately shifted to Pikachu, who Ash was pleased to see she hadn't made a fuss about in his coming. Then, her focus abruptly changed once more. She was now looking at the familiar, tall, strapping young man next to her grandson. Recognizing him, Emily's smile returned. "And hello Brock, I didn't know you were coming."

"I have the summer off from school so I came by to visit Ash. I hope it's okay that I tagged along," he added somewhat sheepishly, for he did not want to intrude so rudely.

Thankfully, Emily did not see it that way. "Of course! You're always welcome here!"

Relief spread across Brock's face, but faded as Ash eagerly pursued the reason they came to visit originally. "Grandma, do you know where Grandpa is by any chance?" he asked.

"He's in his study; I told him he'd be expecting you soon, so go ahead and pop in," Emily responded, gesturing towards the direction of the mentioned room.

"Okay."

Turning on his heels, Ash subconsciously motioned for Brock to follow, only to be suddenly halted by Emily's friendly beckoning. "Oh Brock, you wouldn't mind chatting with me for a moment would you? I'm intrigued to hear all about your schooling."

There wasn't much he could to wriggle out of that request. Brock hardly saw a reason to decline, seeing Emily worked in the same profession, only with humans. She had accomplished a great deal with her title as the head of the Viridian Hospital, having it passed down to her by her very own father, whose family had founded the grand establishment.

"Sure," he answered with a nod. Brock motioned for Ash to go on ahead. "I'll catch up with ya later."

"All right." Pausing, Ash found it strange for his grandmother to seek out his companion as she did, but chalked it up as her being her usual nosy and chatty self whenever guests dropped by.

After Ash ventured away, Emily promptly tugged Brock into the lavish living room, at which he was not at all inclined to protest. He did find the older woman's hurried movement unforeseen; however, he reminded himself not to read it has anything peculiar, knowing Emily was trained in the field he was studying to pursue. As they waltzed on, Brock could hear Ash's feet meander to Richard's study, leaving the two alone and soon settled in the desired destination.

"So how are your classes going?" inquired Emily.

"Pretty well," he replied casually.

"Enjoying your training as a Pokémon doctor?"

"Very much. Though I'm sure you can understand the stresses involved, but the reward of helping others is worth it." Emily gestured for Brock to take a seat on the sofa, and so he followed with a placing of his coiled hands in his lap.

"Can I ever!" she replied, recalling her stressful days in medical school long ago. Emily's gaze then lingered to the drink cart stationed off to the side. "Would you care for a drink?" she offered.

Brock looked over his shoulder for a moment. "Water's just fine." As he waited, he awkwardly laced his fingers together, wondering if she was going to continue to pursue the conversation and was simply distracted by the task at hand, or if she already had enough talk of the subject. Letting the anticipation get to him, Brock decided to speak up. "So uh, Ash said something about a maid named Madeline? He was surprised she wasn't here anymore."

"Oh, don't even get me started on that skinny little thing," Emily snapped, the clinking of glass chiming in her grasp. "She was so quiet when she walked it was like having a ghost in the house! She spooked me every time I turned around- always standing there waiting for her next order. As if she was a robot or something. I didn't want this place to turn into a haunted mansion, so I found it best to let her go. At least now I can hear when Gretchen comes…. Though her shoes are a tad loud."

There was an explanation Brock wasn't predicting. Now that the mystery of Madeline's firing had been solved, the Pokémon doctor-in-training was sorry he initially asked. Being away from her for as long as he had, he had nearly forgotten how picky, critical, and abrasive Emily tended to be, not including her outrageously high expectations almost everyone failed to reach. Ash was surely nothing like his grandmother, and from the brief time Brock spent with Ash's dad, he didn't find Jay to be like her, either. If anything, he imagined the two would be butting heads constantly.

Emily Ketchum was certainly her own brand of exorbitant nuttiness.

Thankfully, the topic had veered yet again, however the talk was not of what Brock envisioned to be of his schooling.

"Oh, and before I forget, you must try these adorable decorated candies Richard and I picked up from our last trip to Johto. We planned on giving some to Ash and Delia, anyway," Emily brought up, seeing she had left the box of treats on the cart as a reminder to give to her grandson on the way out.

"All right," Brock accepted plainly. "I'll sample one."

In a few footsteps, Emily bounded around the sofa and came in front of the young man holding a white box delicately wrapped in a gold ribbon. Fingers loosely untied the knot of thick string and the lid was soon lifted with the edible quantity presented before Brock's eyes.

"Here you go. They're marzipan," Emily elucidated with enthusiasm as she crouched slightly.

_Marzipan?_

If he had known that, Brock would have kindly declined without hesitation. He couldn't at this point, though, not with Emily holding the open box in front of his eyes as she cast her version of a sincerely pleasant smile. Not unless he wanted to suffer a similar fate as the fired French maid Madeline. Meekly, the aspiring Pokémon doctor grinned back and chose his decorated form of pure sugar. The Pikachu-shaped and -colored one lying perfectly inside the right top corner of the box Brock assumed was meant for Ash. So he selected a Sentret, holding the candy between his thumb and index finger as he briefly examined the overly sweet snack. Then he placed it in his mouth. At first, Brock cringed a little at the taste, his chewing slowing down to where the contents of the munched marzipan were sitting in the right side of his jaw. He knew the flavor marzipan bore, and even with his refined palate could not stomach to relish the strong taste of almond paste.

_This is worse than I_ _remembered!_ he thought to himself with a silent cry of disgust. He chomped down on it a little more out of politeness, keeping himself in check._ But I can't let Ash's grandma think that..._

Suppressing his urge to demand a napkin and spit out the dreaded marzipan, Brock kept up his slow and close to painful gnawing as Emily fetched her own drink of water.

"You know what's silly?" she said with lightness to her voice. "When I saw you two come into the foyer, I was expecting to see Misty pop up behind one of you. I guess I'm just so used to you three romping about!"

"Yeah." Brock was still distracted by the unpleasant taste in his mouth. He swallowed another chunk. "I kind of miss the ol' days myself."

"Well, who could blame you? You three were practically inseparable!" Emily responded with now more forceful buoyancy bouncing out of her throat. With ice cubes nestled in her chilled beverage, Emily retired to the antique sofa across from Brock and perched herself upon the sitting piece as if she was the queen of Kanto.

"But you all are starting your own lives now," she started up again, only with a more thoughtful hint to her tone. Wandering eyes accompanied her voice, the beginning of her little scheme brewing. "Following your own path, maturing, learning about what you want out of life..." She sighed. "I still remember the day Ash brought you two over here for the first time... You still keep in close contact with Misty, don't you?"

At last, the final tiny remnant of marzipan was insistently gulped down. Breathing out of his nostrils, Brock responded. "Oh, yeah. Definitely."

"And Ash?"

"I think he tries."

"Where is Misty right now?"

In a flash, another surge of discomfort struck a chord inside the young man, though much deeper than his abhorrence to the nasty almond paste. Regarding Misty's whereabouts, the real answer of: "With your sons and fighting a notorious crime organization in Kanto to secure safety with _her_ family before chaos broke out" didn't exactly play out well in Brock's head.

Hurriedly, he answered with a calm demeanor as he tried to keep his unhinging composure. "Back home. She just came back from that tour with her sisters, so she's playing catchup at the gym."

"She must have a lot of responsibilities. You would know that with your family running a gym as well," Emily noted, making a connection.

"It's a lot to take on by yourself, but Misty's doing really well, all things considered."

"Does she have a lot going on in her personal life too? A boyfriend perhaps? Balancing one's personal needs and work schedule can be so hectic and difficult at times," she declared with slight exhaustion, as if understanding the demands and pressures one faced when accepting a great undertaking.

This out of the blue questioning instantly caused Brock to frown. His reaction wasn't out of anger by any means; rather, surprised perplexity as he attempted to comprehend what Ash's grandmother was getting at. Why did it seem necessary for her to know such a personal tidbit about Misty's life?

"Uh, I don't think Misty's time really allows her to have a- boyfriend," he replied steadily, the words sounding strange to him as they fell from his lips.

Emily's eyebrows dipped. "That's quite a shame." She permitted her gaze to wander for a short time, behaving as if to execute her ultimate goal in a timely and reasonable fashion. And she did so with a striking expression, blatantly getting down to business without an ounce of reconsideration or shame. "You've traveled with Ash and Misty for a quite a few years, what do you think is the probability of them sharing affections for one another?"

For Brock, he was lucky he had just gulped down a sip of water for he was certain the liquid would have uncontrollably sloshed out of his mouth and disperse across the refined coffee table separating him and Emily. Struck with complete astonishment, he tried to shake off the disturbance and formulate a halfway coherent answer.

"I...couldn't say?" After replying, Brock realized his weak response came out more so of a question rather than a statement.

Either ignoring or not noticing his sheepish response, Emily persisted. "I mean, you've been friends with them for so long. You're bound to know something!"

"Mrs. Ketchum, I don't know if it's my place-"

"Nonsense! Nonsense!" she hushed with a wave of her hand. "Humor an older woman for a minute with speculative theories, hmm?"

The look she was giving him, the eyeballing and the cunning smile adding to Brock's now heightened concerns and inkling... Was Emily seriously buttering him up only to pine him for information on her grandson's _love life_? Brock already knew without a doubt that Misty harbored romantic feelings for Ash; however, if they were fully shared that was hard to decipher. Ash having a crush on Misty was evident, a harmless and silly one, nonetheless it was there. It was just simply too foggy for Brock to say if he patently knew Ash understood his feelings and wished to seek a deeper relationship. Not that Brock felt at all inclined to discuss such private and conjectural findings with Ash's nosy grandmother- _especially_ with the likes of Emily, who was probably doing this because of Misty's supposed well-endowed background, as if equally matching where half of Ash's family came from...

"Well uh...I'm sure there's some kind of affection…somewhere," Brock concluded uncomfortably, his mind focused on working his way out of the trap he had walked into.

Emily gave a grave frown and paused. "Is it because you like Misty?"

Her tone was so flat and skeptical, Brock nearly choked on his own words of assurance by her sheer audacity to assume something so outrageous that in her mind, it _had _to be the only logical clarification for his resistance. "What? No!" he exclaimed in defense, waving his hands. "Misty's great and all, but I don't like her like _that_. She's like a little sister to me."

"Well then, what do you think are the chances of them getting together?" Emily shot back impatiently.

"I honestly can't say," he insisted sincerely. "Misty doesn't share that kind of personal stuff with me, and Ash is off on...Planet Pokémon."

If Ash couldn't even recognize Gary's jealousy for Harper then Brock doubted Ash was fully aware of the tender and caring feelings Misty had harbored since as far back as he could recall.

"I assumed he'd be less intuitive about his feelings," Emily responded, not at all alarmed. "Most boys are immature like that." Her expression shifted sourly for a moment. "He definitely didn't get _that_ from his father." Then it faded. "Though despite that ridiculous smile and front he tries to put on when denying such, I do sense Ash has an underlining affection for Misty."

Consideration was made by Brock, knowing the answer definitely but deciding not to indulge in this uneasy confab as much as he already did. "...Possibly," Brock eventually said. From there, he mustered some strength to subtly challenge Emily, dismissing his recently established fear of her in order to construct appropriate boundaries. "With all due respect, Mrs. Ketchum, I don't want it to seem like I'm talking about them behind their backs-"

"Oh do not fret, dear. Whatever you say stays between us."

Another frown was on the verge of slipping, possibly a moan of frustration too. But Brock elegantly handled the situation with poise and decorum, finally getting at the itching question that had been bothering him since the commencing of this treacherous discussion. "Mrs. Ketchum, why is there a need to know about Ash and Misty's feelings?"

At first glimpse, it seemed she was hesitant to answer Brock's upfront question. Brown eyes at last softening to something of a tentative nature, eventually surrendering the pride to speak with a full chest of air and serious face. "If you must know, I just feel they'd make a good match. That and Misty's grounded. She has found her calling and has made a career out of her passion and family's business. I think she'd be good for Ash. Of course, who's to say if they'd stay permanently attached until the day they die, but at least she'd be a better first girlfriend than most of the available girls these days."

Brock couldn't argue that. There were, of course, other eligible and wonderful young ladies around Ash's age for him to seek out. However, there was something about Misty, something she had that always made Brock feel that she and Ash just...clicked. He himself didn't fully understand it, but it was there. The spark in their eyes, how their smiles lit up every time they saw each other or if the other one was mentioned in passing. From the side, Brock closely witnessed how much the two progressed in their maturity, their personality, traits, and overall character, fleshing out nicely into who they were gradually becoming. Their morals were on very similar lines (if not the same), and despite their squabbles, when the pair worked together they truly were an outstanding team.

Silently, Brock observed how much Misty found Ash to be an enigma at times, yet wanted to understand him and know his heart as each day went by. And in return, when weakness dared to strike him in the most glorious of moments, Ash felt the unexplainable need to have the now somewhat calmed and blossoming redhead back by his side again.

Like how everything once was.

"And I want the absolute best for Ash," Emily continued to elucidate genuinely, a gentler note bearing inside her nasally vocal cords. "Gary already has a wonderful girl in his life, and I only wish for my other grandson to have the same." Her neck bent down at a slight angle, gazing into her cold glass of water as a very rare mellow grin graced Emily's face. "I remember what it was like to have a crush at his age, dreaming about one's first love...it's such an innocent time I wish for him to experience!

"And sadly, Delia has been no help in this department so I thought I'd go to my next best source," she finally admitted resentfully, now explaining Brock's sudden involvement. Then, the bitterness dissipated with another smile at Brock, keening in on her mischievous antics. "And here you are! My, isn't timing funny?"

That's not exactly how Brock would define timing. But _maybe_ Emily had good intentions. An odd approach though it was, at least she seemed to care deeply for Ash, regardless that the teenager would have probably thrown a tantrum if he discovered his grandmother's artful doings.

If anything was certain in Brock's mind, finding ones first real love...was nothing more than an innocent occasion with every burst of butterflies rupturing inside.

* * *

He had been thinking about how to broach the subject, yet he could not come to a consensus with himself.

Almost a whole week had passed, which was sufficient enough time to properly tackle the best form of response. Honesty always seemed like an easier said answer than the actual attempt at executing such humility. Prof. Oak was one for integrity, and when something rubbed him the wrong way, he never felt inclined to jump in the middle of it. But this...this he couldn't turn away from. Someone whose life was at stake, _multiple _lives in jeopardy, was far more paramount to the older man than allowing disaster to occur simply because he wanted to step aside. Tragically, ethics had reared their ugly head at him, wondering, reconsidering everything he had done in the last ten years.

He couldn't keep this up. He couldn't lie any more than he had to. Even if it was with good intention.

Now here he was, talking with him over Drake's cellphone. And he still didn't know how to proceed.

"Sam?"

The calling of his name caused the professor to break from his daze, and he swallowed. "Jayce, I..." He stared into the open book at his desk, legends of Ho-Oh's capabilities stealing his attention. Too much was swirling through Sam's mind, too much he wanted to avoid yet conquer at the same time. Then, he heard her voice, her pleading question for another time.

He had to do something.

"There's no easy way for me to tell you this- Delia wants to find you."

Jay would have thud onto the ground if his legs were as limp as his arms were beginning to feel, now cradling the cellphone in a shaky hold. A dizziness set in in his head, thoughts colliding as the master tried to come to grips with Sam's declaration. _She_ wanted to find him? _Him_? After all these years? But why now? Had Delia mustered enough courage to do so? Was she ready to move on? To mend the broken pieces of her heart?

To go on without him?

His throat went dry. "Did you?-"

"She came to me on her own," Prof. Oak explained coolly. "She showed up about a week ago, telling me she couldn't go on like this anymore and that she needed my help in finding you. She wants you back, Jayce. That letter you apparently sent her and _failed_ to mention to me- she's worried about you," he proclaimed, letting go of whatever minimal frustration he held onto. "She's deeply concerned. She's catching on; she knows you're in some kind of trouble based upon what you wrote."

After an extended pause, seriousness etched in the professor's swelling concerns. "If I do not tell her something, I'm afraid she'll have no choice but to move on. Delia's waited long enough... And so have I."

Getting everything off his chest, especially the last part, lifted just a chip of the burden Sam had been carrying on his shoulders. He wasn't about to anticipate all would be smoothed over, however, for he was still anxiously waiting to hear a response from Jay.

Nervous blue eyes darted. "I can't-" He gulped, words struggling to be spoken. "_We_ can't... I want her to stay safe, Sam-"

"Because you love her or because you're afraid?"

Silence sliced the air at the stark accusation. Jay stared ahead at the lush greenery surrounding him, then to the bed of water rushing, separating two different plots of land. Why was Sam being so, dare he say- frank? In such a harsh and deliberate approach to boot? Patience was growing thin; people were becoming tired, weary, and irritable in several cases... Then again, was it such a surprise? Jay knew this would come eventually. When all the running in the world couldn't prevent him from facing one of his biggest fears.

The line remained quiet as a couple of minutes ticked by. The adjustment of Sam's throat crackled over the phone, his attempt in softening his tone to the obviously startled trainer. "Jayce, I know you're afraid of the inevitable-"

"Just what the hell do you think I've been doing these last weeks?" a deep but low growl emerged, catching Sam off-guard. "Of course I want Delia to know! I've wanted Delia to know from the start! I hate this!" Jay baritone voice boomed like thunder. "I absolutely hate how everything's turned out, but I _can't_ control that. I can only do what's reachable for me…and telling Delia- I'm not sure it's the right time."

"Maybe so," the professor huffed, his calmness becoming rigid with worrisome persistence. "But Jayce, Delia and I have already made an agreement. I told her I would do some digging, and after the party at the inn she wants to know what I found. I'm just now trying to figure out what I should say. That's why I called you-"

"You know what, Sam?" the master barked fiercely in retaliation. "You shouldn't have made that agreement. It wasn't your place."

Immediately, Prof. Oak gawked at his former student's comeback. "Wasn't my place?" he repeated, utterly stupefied and unappreciative of the tone Jay was taking with him. "Jayce, you've given me no choice but to make myself involved! Don't you think it's been long enough? You knew we were going to have to tell her eventually, so I don't understand where this hostility is coming from-"

"Do you _really_ get the risks we're taking?" Jay retorted, sick of the heart wrenching reminders and the blatant confusion Sam seemed to have for the master's explosive words. "Giovanni wants Misty _and_ Drake _and_ probably Molly now _dead_, and I'm just barely holding it together! He's willing to go to any length to get me to do what he wants. And I have a horrible, _horrible_ aching feeling that he knows about our conversations."

None of that could be dismissed. Lives were nestled in their hold, a clasp they tried to secure with every fiber of their being, yet in the end, danger still crept into their sanctuary. There were grave and dark chances being taken for all, ones Sam could not fully comprehend unless he was placed in Jay's shoes. But Sam was fighting his own issues back in Pallet. The lies spoken to a broken mother and child and their untangling, just as threatening in some respects as running from men with guns and experimented super-powered Pokémon.

"And that's why I think it's imperative for me to come clean and tell Delia the truth!" Sam argued in return, finally matching Jay's level of hollers. Finally_ saying_ the truth. "You can't keep running away out of fear, Jayce!"

Like an arrow hitting the desired point on the target board, the words Jay wished he could have blocked out of his mind shamed him into facing reality. He could feel himself shake, his weight quake underneath him as his imagination ran wild. For as long as the master could remember, he had dreamt of this foreboding time drawing ever so close. For his name to be cleared, for Ash and Delia to be taken somewhere safe, for Sam to be relieved of the bothersome thorn that Jay had willingly placed in his side... Yet the anguishing fright strangled the ounce of hope Jay had at reaching at the end of the tunnel. In his mind, he couldn't have his ideal situation back no matter what angle he looked at it. And the repercussions he knew would come were beginning to appear more menacing than what his desperately hopeful self once saw them as ten years ago.

No matter how hard he tried to mask it through forceful words.

Inhaling a deep breath, Sam attempted to center himself after his outburst. Though the flourishing brusque discontent was too combative to keep at bay as he began to speak. "We can't keep going back and forth on this. We need to make a decision - _now_," the professor insisted passionately with assertion. "Delia's going to ask questions, and she deserves answers. For this mess to be resolved once and for all... As burdensome as this journey has been for you, Jayce, keeping this secret has plagued my character as well."

All the endless, horrifying and mindboggling outcomes had successfully eaten away at whatever methodical decision-making Jay had left. And now, he snapped like a twig in the gusting wind, unable to hold onto the sturdy tree it clung to for support.

"If that's how you feel, Sam...then_ fine_," Jay snarled, seeing there was no way around his terror besides lashing back. "You don't want this guilt riding on you, then do whatever the hell you want. You go rid your soul of guilt, and I'll be the deadbeat father and husband everyone perceives me to be. And the coward you think I am!"

With a shocked Sam gasping to reply, Jay successfully hung up the phone. Dipping his head low, Sam breathed out through his nostrils.

Jay's fear was worse than he thought.

* * *

"Hi, Grandpa."

Lifting his head from his entrancing paperwork, Richard spotted his dark and messy haired grandson peering from the crack of the open door. Had time flown by that quickly? Graying blue eyes checked the extravagantly carved grandfather clock place on the right side of room, seeing his grandson made his entrance right on the dot. As the older man expected, Ash was wearing a classic Pokémon league hat, with Pikachu on his shoulder as usual. Richard smiled softly at this, rising from his seat as he removed his glasses and tucked them in his handkerchief pocket.

"Ash, it's good to see you. And hello, Pikachu," he greeted, securely fastening one of the stems of the glasses over the pocket. He believed he had heard a ruckus outside the door to his private study, though Richard was certain he heard more than just the familiar sound of Emily and Ash. "Now," he started as he bounded around his large framed dark maple desk, "unless your grandmother has found pleasure in chatting with the maids, I assume you brought a guest with you?"

"Oh, yeah," Ash sweat-dropped a little. "Brock came with me. He said he'd help me take Dad's stuff back home. I hope that's okay."

"That's perfectly fine," Richard assured. Abruptly, his voice then lowered with a hint of playfulness in his eyes. "Though one of us will have to intercede and free the poor boy from your grandmother's frivolous talks eventually."

The teenager chortled outwardly, catching on. "I don't think Brock minds."

"If you say so," the older man replied with just as much subtle gusto to his laughter.

Not long after the men and Pikachu journeyed out of the study, they arrived at the short winding staircase, leading to the bedrooms up above. Once reaching the top floor, Richard guided Ash down a hall and ultimately to their destination. As a child, Ash recalled the familiarity of the upper level of his grandparent's house. Plenty of rooms were stationed on each side of the clean and tastefully decorated hall, ones that were merely guest suites or spots for storage, as well as places that used to house the senior Ketchums' children. There was no peeking into any of the unknown rooms, for Richard promptly escorted Ash to Jay's old piece of sanctuary. They were confronted with an identical, nicely sculpted door, just like all the others. But to Ash, he was confronted with hesitancy yet a burst of curious excitement as he silently watched Richard twist the door knob open.

"Well, here we are."

Steadily with quiet precaution, Ash took his first step in. For a moment, he felt as if he had traveled back to the shadowed past, a time he subconsciously wanted to know and visit merely to feel closer to his dad. Wandering in, Pikachu skittered off Ash's shoulder and sniffed about while his trainer took in the atmosphere of the room with wide, innocent eyes. The room was, in simplest terms, mostly barren. Walls were coated in a midnight blue hue, with a bed, dresser, desk, and mirror dispersed across the area with minimal decoration. It was a spacious enough room, close to twice the size of Ash's. The mattress itself was far larger than that of the bunk beds he still had. Nothing about the bedroom stood out to Ash as he would have expected, other than its near dreariness, almost sadness-

Except the balcony. His expression lit up at the sight of a window bench as he approached it, and soon gleamed out the pair of windows. Ash imagined his father once unlocked the shutters and climbed over the bench to stand out on the small landing. The view of trees and the haunting gate below left the teenager with another strange eruption of melancholy. A feeling that Ash wondered if his father ever felt. Staring out into the distance… Then pondering if Jay ever tried to scale the vines draping below and land feet first into the bushes to sneak away.

"Now you may take anything you like, minus the big furniture pieces, of course."

Blinking as if snapping out of a trance, Ash glanced over his shoulder and looked to his grandpa. "Okay, thanks."

He sounded distracted to Richard, making him feed off the awkwardness as if trying to carry on as normal. "Your grandmother also supplied bubble-wrap and boxes," he added, gesturing towards the small pile of supplies Emily ordered the maid to bring up.

This time, he got a little grin out of Ash. "I appreciate it."

It wasn't adequate enough to lift the minimal tension from the room. Richard instantly pondered if the room and the view outside the window were what was behind his grandson's dampening expression. He supposed it was natural for the boy to feel a tad uncomfortable given the circumstances, given whose former bedroom they were in...

Using his speedy and tactful mind, Richard tried to veer the conversation in a different direction. "I never cared for these- death rocker posters your father insisted on hanging up," he suddenly commented with his hands shoved in his trouser pockets. He sourly scrutinized the near Gothic metal themed band posters scattered across the wall. "Nor could I ever get that ringing out of my ears after your father blasted it as obscenely as he did. Are you into this type of genre?"

Finally, he triumphantly stole Ash's attention. The dark haired teenager swayed awkwardly, looking at the posters himself. "I've never been a big 'death rocker' fan myself."

"So I'm assuming you have no interest in keeping the posters?" the older man presumed.

"Oh no, I'll take them," Ash hurriedly answered. "Who knows," he shrugged, "maybe one day I'll get into the 'death rocker' world."

"If you do, send me a letter," Richard harmlessly joked.

"I will," he joshed back.

Chocolate eyes bounced across the room, trying to shake off the sudden unexplainable feeling he was hit with. And in doing so, Ash found his first treasure to take home. Beaming, his hand reached for the item on the nightstand.

"And I'll definitely take this."

Richard perked. "Ah, his Poliwhirl phone. Very retro."

"It's too unusual not to keep," Ash said, scanning over the device that was practically shaped like the water Pokémon, only with a receiver attached to it.

It was then that Richard's gaze travelled towards the almost empty bookcase. A few books sat every which way on various shelving units, though one cluster on the middle shelf in particular drew his hand forward. Brushing off the thick layer of dust, he approached Ash. "I would also consider keeping these wonders," he offered, showing the side of the title for his grandson to view.

Ash's eyes widened in amazement, not only in how nicely bound the books were and that their covers were made of leather, but the title alone brought a small smile to his face. "A collection on the evolution of Eevee," he said, taking the four series of books from his grandpa's grasp.

"They were a Christmas present from me to your father," Richard explained. "I picked them up at a bookstore when I was in Canalave City for a business trip."

The city in Sinnoh was renowned for its extensive and massive library, making sense that Richard found this vital collection in a bookstore. However, if they were printed so nicely with an expansive amount of research delving into the history of Eevee's origin and its various evolution forms...

"Why didn't Dad take them then when he moved out? I mean, them being a gift and everything," Ash asked innocently.

It was then the teenager realized his questioning bloomed without thought, spotting a twinkle of depression in his grandfather's eyes. He hadn't meant anything by it, and Richard knew such. Still, the pain was evidently there. A pain Ash struggled to understand, seeing he had only witnessed the polite, stoic, humorous, and in a way, warm side of Richard. What Ash had known his grandpa to be, and though his time with his dad was limited, he would have thought that Jay would have been closer to Richard after getting to know the man himself.

The pause wasn't extended any longer, seeming as if Ash's grandfather proposed a suitable enough answer for both of them to believe. "I suppose he had too much luggage already when he left, and so he sacrificed these limited editions."

"Well, they'll be safe and sound with me, Grandpa," the teenager assured, and then walked over to one of the boxes provided.

A small smile was returned, however its faintness proved for it to waver and shrink.

"So what are you and Grandma going to do with Dad's room?" Ash questioned casually as he placed the books in the selected box, not noticing the bleakness engulfing his grandfather's expression. "Are you going to make a recreational room or something?"

In this instance, Richard felt he needed to break himself from the fixed doleful trance he was in, lightening his voice. "My first thought was that she might feel tempted to turn it into another walk-in closet for her overflowing array of garments, but actually, your grandmother was considering turning this room into one for you."

Dismissing the minor jeers at his grandma, Ash was mostly focused on the warm gesture his grandparents were offering. "_For me_?"

"She thought if you ever came by to visit or perhaps stay the night, you would at least have a piece of sanctuary of your own."

"That's really nice of her," he said appreciatively. Something clicked in Ash's head at that point for his eyebrows to lower, glancing about the sparse room, as if it saddened him in some way. "But I don't want her to move all of Dad's stuff out just because-"

"I think she'd prefer it that way," Richard cut him off with a warning tone.

"O-oh."

That was all Ash could muster to reply, now feeling foolish for his innocent addition of words. He didn't need to ask why Emily wanted to move out all of Jay's belongings, and so left the conversation alone.

Slapping his hands against his thighs, Richard tried once again to brighten the atmosphere as he made his exit. "Now uh, let me know if you need anything. I will be down in my study; I need to return a phone call."

"Okay," Ash nodded, not wanting to keep him any longer than he had. "Thanks, Grandpa."

When Richard left the bedroom, Ash went about sorting and collecting what he liked. By the end of his gathering, he had four stuffed boxes to haul back home, and in taking a while, Pikachu had made himself comfortable by snoozing away on the downy comforter on top of the bed. Ash didn't want to wake the mouse from his slumber quite yet, so he did a mental run down of what he'd grabbed, and for a final time, checked out the drawers and closet in case he missed anything. The shelves were wiped clean, with no books in sight since Ash grabbed all he could locate. After all, the only other books he was aware of were the ones in his father's closet. And there was no way he could get past his mom without Delia asking why he was snooping about in _her _room...

Besides books, Ash had snagged a few random knickknacks and rolled up the posters Richard seemed to have unpleasant memories of. Other than that, the room had been practically cleaned out, not much left for him to take. Ash hadn't, however, checked out the two drawers in the nightstand. So he did a little innocuous investigating, pulling out the first drawer to find two things in it: an envelope and what appeared to be a strip of photos. Spellbound by the slightly faded colors and obvious familiar faces, Ash picked up the thin piece of paper and held it to the light. The short strand of photos consisted of four shots, most likely taken in a photo booth. The people in each picture were no doubt Ash's parents, their youthful faces proving they (at least his mom from what he saw) had aged gracefully. Delia still bore her chestnut doe eyes, accompanied by her gentle, shy smile and her long strand of an auburn braid. She was wearing a floral patterned dress, outdated of course, but nonetheless she looked as lovely as she did now. Except for the fact that Ash noticed something off in that old string of photos. His mother's smile was somehow...different. She appeared more carefree, more radiant, and giddier as each picture was snapped. As she clung to and nuzzled next to her her just as delighted boyfriend.

One could presume it was because of her being a teenager, being credulous by nature for she had not fully seen the stark darkness reality could bring. Or perhaps- she was just smitten. And that feeling that only he could make was taken away from her. Smiling gently, Ash soaked in the blissfulness his parents once shared, and in an effort to hold on to that memory, tucked the strip of photos into one of the books he kept.

He had never seen a picture of them together like that, and he also didn't anticipate uncovering an envelope with his mother's writing on it as he went on looking in the drawer. It was addressed to his father, only the mailing address was for Sinnoh, the place being Sandgem Town with many little flower stamps stretched across the top. Ash had no clue why his dad would be there, so pursuing his wondering mind, he opened the holder and pulled out the crinkled letter. Then, he began to read.

_Dear Jay,_

_How are you enjoying your time in Sandgem Town? Your last letter about Prof. Rowan had me in stiches. Does he really look like the abominable snowman? Besides his appearance, I'm sure he's as smart and talented as Prof. Oak made him out to be. Still, even though you're experiencing a once in a life time internship, I can't help but be selfish and wish you were here with me. I miss you soooo much. Raspberry just gave birth to her first calf (I'm so proud of her!). It's a little girl, and she's just darling. Her name is Strawberry. Befitting, right? Since you tease me about them ALL having fruit names. But you wouldn't have me any other way, right? I can just imagine you smirking as you read this. But I wouldn't want YOU any other way! _

_As fun as summer has been, it's still not the same without you. Most of the time I've been home, unless it's really hot out. Then I go to our spot. You know, I used that word, gasconading, you taught me to beat my dad in Scrabble? And to your delight, I gave you FULL credit for that one! I found it very befitting, given its definition. Dad was in a real tizzy, he pulled out the dictionary to make sure it was real! I think things have gotten better between him and me. After how he accidentally found us well- kissing. It's strange to say out loud still, even to write it down on paper. But I'm glad it happened. I really am. I mean, I've never felt this way for anyone 'till I met you... _

_I better get going. Mom's calling me. Something about my dad needing to shoot the right Combusken. Honestly, I don't want him to shoot EITHER. Anyway, I can't wait to see you again. _

_Be safe, Jay. _

_Love, Delia_

Once he finished reading, Ash's arms relaxed, the letter hanging loosely in his hold as he stared blankly back out the pair of windows. A part of him was mildly, well...repulsed, which was evident as he childishly crinkled his nose briefly. Like any other teenage boy would behave. Stumbling upon a "love letter" his mom wrote to his dad was less than what he'd call a spectacular find. Nevertheless, it was- sweet. In its own right. Seeing, even when they were his age, they had just as evident of affections for one another as he could recall when he was young. Ash was somewhat surprised his father hadn't taken it with him- that and the photo. Though Richard had mentioned Jay was in a hurry when he left. More on the lines of him sneaking out and grabbing what he could without getting caught…. Despite the letter's overly gushy details of childhood romance, Ash felt it was best to take it home, considering if Emily found the letter- Well, she'd probably believe its rightful place was in the garbage can.

That and when he had a chance, he could _maybe_ ask Delia about this apparent internship Jay had taken with Prof. Rowan over the summer those years ago. He would have liked to know about it during his first trip to Sinnoh. Would have liked to hear it from his father….

After unlocking a mushy note of endearing words from his once teenage mom and their lovey-dovey shots in a photo booth, Ash was now unsure if exploring the next drawer was a wise idea. Come what may, the teenager prepped himself for another uncovering of love-struck items, only to find something of the complete opposite.

Inside the second drawer was what looked like a white cropped piece of paper with a date written in the bottom left hand corner. That is, until Ash's fingers caressed the texture, realizing it felt something more like a photo. Initially with an eye roll, he guessed it to be _another _picture of his mom and dad, grabbing it swiftly with a scoff to get the reveal over with. But as Ash flipped it over, he distinguished what he thought to be his father next to- a boy? Dark brows narrowed closely together, gleaming at the photo with scrutinizing eyes.

Who was this boy? He bared an uncanny resemblance to Jay; the dark tresses, the blue eyes yet with a deeper shade…. Estimating roughly, Ash speculated him to be around the age of eleven to thirteen, and surely shared some biological relation to Jay. They were standing comfortably next to each other outside, as if they were close, in what bore an eerie resemblance to Emily and Richard's front yard. There was a chance the boy was a cousin of Jay's, but last time Ash checked Richard was an only child. And this boy was _definitely _blessed with Ketchum-like features….

If he peered carefully, if he dared to examine every feature of the child's face, Ash could have sworn he almost looked like- He closed his eyes and tried to clear his thoughts. Maybe he was reading into things. He felt like it, as his first reaction seemed all the more silly to him when challenged with logic.

And yet, as gazed out the window shutters, something about that outré photo just couldn't settle within Ash's heart.

* * *

"I can't look at this anymore."

With a swift swipe, Jay rolled up the map of Kanto and placed it directly in Drake's hands. The islander frowned, gleaming into his now clenched grasp with an exasperated furrow of brows. _Move faster._ That's what Sam wanted, which, while the trainers understood the rush and had left Lavender Town without starting a debate, they all found to be highly impractical. Jay specifically was soured by the request and went about for the past few days brooding and hiding whatever searing thoughts burned in his manic mind. And now after the professor's most recent call that day, Jay appeared more...humorless than usual. He was less tolerant of Molly's ongoing rambles of innocent glee and perverse to Misty's upbeat persistence.

And now with Drake, he was, in a sense, pouting.

"Well, we'll have to decide on a route," the Orange Crew Leader argued evenly, unrolling the map. He spread it open again and placed it back on the available chopped tree stump. "I think heading up through Rifure Village is our best option seeing it's close by. I know it's a stretch, but they might have an ATM for me to get some money. That way we can stock up on supplies again-"

He stopped himself from speaking momentarily. Gazing up, he uncovered Jay with his back turned, a stiff arm and hand planted firmly on the bark of a tree. Jay was evidently focusing on something else entirely, for Drake was beginning to feel he was deciding a best course of action with the tree versus his own brother. While he could not see Jay's face, it was conspicuous to the islander that the man was ruminating over a matter that intertwined both his head and heart. For many times before, that had been the very reason why Jay appeared less engaged with the discussion at hand.

"What are you thinking?" Drake questioned, his voice pricked with sheer curiosity.

"Sam was rather agitated the first time we talked after our loss of communication," Jay replied quietly. "And he seems to find it imperative to remind me of what's at stake. Like I don't_ already_ know."

"He's probably just as anxious as the rest of us," Drake reasoned logically, mostly out of assurance for his brother's sake. "He is the one trying to unravel Giovanni's intentions, so it shouldn't be any wonder why he'd seem so...uptight."

A sigh followed. "_I know_."

It wasn't the typical exasperated response Drake expected to hear. Instead it was sharp, almost agitated, as if Jay was gritting his teeth from the reminder of Sam's earlier discontent. The details were unknown to the islander, however he was quick-witted enough to tell something had gone awry during that phone call. At the time of the call, he was taking a break with Misty and Molly to rest their feet and collect water into their canteens from the gushing river. On and off Drake observed that his brother had wandered further from them, for what he presumed to be him picking up a clearer signal through the cellphone. But now out of worry, an aching and unwelcome wrench had begun to snuggle in Drake's side.

"I don't think Sam means anything by it," insisted Drake once more with a calm edge, referring to whatever tiff the men got into.

"Yeah well, he's not exactly considering my stresses," Jay snorted, a foot kicking against the loosely upturned earth.

Eyebrows lowered. "Did something happen between you two?" he inquired. "From today's phone call?"

Stopping the mindless distraction, Jay retracted his foot back to his side and remained still. He did not twirl to face Drake, only loomed his focus back onto the ground as his eyes narrowed into slits. "Sam brought up some _things_ that were in need of pressing and- I lost it."

"_Lost it_?" echoed Drake.

At this point, Jay begrudgingly spun back around and met his brother's eyes. "I couldn't handle what he said," the master clarified with a heavy huff. "I don't need any reminders of what's been plaguing my mind for the last _ten years_. I know how important it is to tell Delia the truth yet, I've been...cautious. And Sam acts as if I'm being _too_ cautious. That I'm letting my own personal fears stand in the way of doing what's right just because he can't stand the guilt anymore.

"So now apparently, Delia has come to him wanting to know if there's any way she can find me. And he wants to tell her. Regardless of the fact that we _haven'_t even figured out Giovanni's plans yet, he wants to tell her."

So that's what it was about.

As of late, Prof. Oak had been awfully pushy for them to move their journey along, which was, without question, easier said than done. On the sidelines, Drake had watched his older brother grow testier over the matter, like poking an already sensitive slumbering Ursaring with a sharp stick. Clearly, Sam had stepped over the thin boundary and aroused the blustering splenetic side of Jay he had been restraining internally. Then again, hadn't Jay recruited Misty and Brock for this very reason? To make handling the touchy subject easier in a sense? He was beyond ecstatic and relieved for their assistance, as if they were a prayer fallen from a faraway star. So why was he resistant to tell Delia now? Besides the obvious, involving Giovanni.

"Well, are you being too cautious?" Drake proposed openly, as if suggesting they both already knew the answer. "Because you're afraid of the repercussions when Delia knows the truth? How she'll react?"

Jay didn't want their tête-à-tête to be overheard by the girls, so with a gesture of his eyes he hushed his little brother for a moment. Then he took his time with his reply, only for it to come across as difficult and cryptic.

"I think it's only human to fear rejection."

"Jay," Drake sighed tiredly, "whatever the result may be regarding Delia's response, that's out of your control. You did what you felt was right, what _was_ right. And if she can't see that...then in a sense, she doesn't deserve you."

If only it was that simple for him to believe and feel.

"I'm the undeserving one."

"_No_, you're not," Drake disputed with assertion. "Why do you keep telling yourself that? Did Sam tell you that?" When he received nothing but a glance to the side from his brother, he continued. "I get that you're disappointed in yourself, and that you think you're some kind of monster for leaving as abruptly as you did. But Jay, you gotta keep things in perspective. You acted with good intentions. You didn't take advantage of the situation to get away from your family. _I_ know that. _You_ know that. I hear you tell yourself that, and then you just fall apart again."

"Well, it's not exactly easy to keep myself in high spirits," Jay bit back bitterly, his physical and mental toll reminded him of just that.

Masculine hands vigorously caressed Drake's face, massaging his tight muscles in exasperation from his brother's stubbornness. "Uggh, can't you see I'm trying to help you, not persecute you?" the man bellowed, his understanding faltering. "We can't control what's happened in the past; all we can do is move forward and do what's right.

"And if Delia's looking for you…" That thought trailed with hesitation, Drake torn inside on how to respond. He shook his head faintly, now becoming rattled himself over the pressure they were all under. "Put your argument with Sam aside, regardless if he was in the wrong or not, and only think of _her_. She_ needs_ to know the truth, Jay," he reminded with steady passion, hoping the words were sinking into his brother's thick head.

And they were. An apologetic expression crossed Jay's face, now being his turn to shake his head. "I'm sorry, Drake. I don't expect you to coach me every time this happens. Believe me, I have told myself not to be scared a thousand times and more of what might happen if Delia finds out. But I can't shake off what could come- the _worst _possibility when this is all over."

The worst possibility- that pertained to many things, not just matters of the heart.

A short distance from the contemplating brothers sat Misty. She was lounging on the bed of vibrant green grass, observing an adventurous Molly as she and her bare feet walked wobbly against the exposed rocks along the flowing river. To Misty, it was beginning to feel like quite a while since they originally settled themselves in this particular spot. All she could do was anxiously study Jay and Drake as each minute ticked by, their words unintelligible as they paced and gestured with their arms.

"Is he always this cranky?"

Misty perked up at the sound of Molly's voice, breaking out of her fixed trance. "Not always," she said, knowing whom the girl was referring to. "Mr. Ketchum's just under a lot of pressure right now."

"Because of this whole Team Rocket thing?" she concluded innocently. "They have been after us a lot lately."

"Yeah," the redhead breathed deeply. She was peering back at the men. "Yeah, they have."

Molly was given the short version of the story, leaving out the heavily graphic or simply scary details that might end up giving her night terrors. Only recently had Misty been exposed to the entire picture, a cluster of emotions swirling inside her, struggling to comprehend the damage that had been done, and what could still unravel if a solution wasn't found quickly.

As for this recent development, she was left in the dark. She hoped that Jay and Drake would bother filling her in on what they were so secretly discussing for she, too, was feeling restless and in need of knowing when they were going to head out and to _where _exactly. Somewhere close by, the redhead wished, for her aching feet couldn't handle another long jaunt over uneven terrain. Not after the trouble Team Rocket had given them the day they left Lavender Town- and up until this point. Most importantly of course, Misty prayed the criminals wouldn't drop in for another unwanted ambush attack.

Instead, she was confronted with shouts and stomping feet. Her sea-green eyes were immediately locked on a storming-off Jay, with Drake trailing behind him giving sharp calls for him to obey.

"Where are you going?" the islander called, stopping in front of the girls. "Jay?-"

"For a walk," he cut him off sharply. "We'll just make camp here."

"But Jay-"

"I just need a minute!"

It was no use. Jay was off to God knows where, and Drake was left running his hands down his face all over again. He left the girls to their own devices, marching in the opposite direction in which his brother fled. Both of the young trainers exchanged a glance of concern, not knowing if they should intercede.

Apparently, Jay wanted no more part of the heated conversation.

He was becoming too flustered to think straight, giving himself space and time to cool off. His restless mind led him into the deepest part of the woods, following a rugged dirt trail as he wrestled to grapple with the day's latest dramas.

And his own inner turmoil.

_What am I doing? _Jay asked himself silently, almost in a plea for an answer. _What's wrong with me? I don't want to keep running like this…do I? This was my plan, after all. So why am I so…mad all of a sudden? Because this is all happening so quickly? Because I'm scared of what might happen when I take this risk? Of what might happen to- me?_

His last thought slipped like a leaf breaking free and flying along with the wind. Freezing in his walk as if bewitched, Jay watched as the green maple leaf took its journey to the sky, soaring higher and higher to the branches above. The gusts of air, however, did not take the leaf as high as Jay perceived. It took what seemed like a detour, gradually swaying down the invisible current and to the left side of him, barely passing the trees ahead on an upper slope and fluidly tumbling down to-

A pair of feet.

"I assumed you'd be coming along sooner than later. And thankfully, you've made it here in one piece."

Spooked by the unanticipated presence, Jay jumped a little, his head lifting from where the leaf had landed and shooting his attention straight up. Before him stood a figure cloaked in the shadows, the voice that of a male with a tall, slender frame bathed in the shadows of the prospering trees.

Jay scrunched his face as his icy eyes scrutinized the presence. _What the hell?- _

Who was this- _old man_? Where did he come from? And why would he say such thing? Acting as if he knew Jay was coming! Strange indeed it was. A sudden invasion of goosebumps crept up Jay's arms, and it made him shudder as he gawked at the unknown silhouette.

How the small beam of light between the leaves hit the man, revealing only half of his face's ghostly wrinkles with a cast of an ocean blue eye.

"Who are you?" Jay eventually barked, his suspicious gaze hardening and his defensive stance stiffening between the dark linings of the tree branches.

A faint smile emerged with a tinge of blue sympathy. "I'm the one who can help."

* * *

**A/N Count.: **As you can see, things are really starting to progress with not only Jay, but with the others back in Pallet. I don't want to give anything away, but we are getting very close to what we've all been anticipating. Secrets being revealed, Ash and co.'s reactions, Emily's meddling, who this mysterious man is, and of course discovering what Giovanni is truly up to...

Thank you all again for reading and a Happy Thanksgiving to you all! :)


	19. Uncurling Lifelines

**Author's Note: **Hello my readers! :) Merry Christmas Eve! I'm glad to have made, at least, one post this month. Again, this holiday season has kept me very busy with the typical wrapping presents, cooking, decorating... Nonetheless, my beta reader and I did our best to post this before the new year. I truly hope you all enjoy this chapter, and I thank you for your continual patience. As I've said earlier, we are getting _extremely_ close to some more plot twists and big events within the story. I know this a long one, but it's all steadily building up. Since we're drawing close to the end of the year, I would just like to thank all the readers/reviewers who have stuck with my story thus far. All your positive feedback for this story has added to my joy for writing.

Thank you all once again and I hope you all have a happy holiday with all your loved ones. :)

**DISCLAIMER: **_Pokémon_ belongs to Satoshi Tajiri. If only it belonged to me in some respect. lol. My colorful oc's however, belong to me! ;)

* * *

**Sunlight's Return**

**Chapter 19**

_"Uncurling Lifelines" _

"Come. Bring your traveling companions with you."

_Where the hell to? And what for exactly?_

"I'd rather not," Jay shot down sternly as he glowered at the stranger. "First of all, I don't even know you. Second of all-"

"How do I know about your troublesome times?" the old man mused, looking to the side. "They told me."

This made Jay hiss under his breath in confusion, followed by an askew frown. Who was this "they" the old geezer was referring to? He still had none of his questions answered, and was becoming rather peeved at the man's nonchalant evasiveness. More than anything, his anger was deriving from the old man's random appearance, utterly befuddled as to where he came about and the difficulty of comprehending this was all real...

A gust of wind whirled its way into the men's vicinity, full branches shaking gently as the breeze brought relief to the soaring temperature. Observing the change in wind, the older man beat Jay to the chase, and replied to his impending attempt at interrogating again. "You can ask your questions when we get there, Jayce. Now please, go fetch your friends."

"Hold on a minute!" Jay commanded, not ready to let him call the shots that easily. "Wait!"

Freezing as calmly as he appeared, the man paused in his footsteps. He peered over his shoulder, gesturing towards the small opening of bushes up ahead. "You will find me over this hill."

And with that, he vanished as suddenly as he appeared.

At first, feet readied themselves to charge ahead into the foreign territory, but for some reason they could not move from the spot in which they had been planted upon. Shaking his head, Jay attempted to process all that had just happened, and unsuccessfully broke free from the aching pain ridden in his pumping heart. For once, he had difficulty making sense over the situation, disliking the lack of control he had. As the years of running went on, Team Rocket's moves had become predictable, minus their overall goal, of course. But in this instance... Jay was hit with a double-whammy. First, Prof. Oak not so kindly revealed Delia's want to find him and now Jay was confronted with the appearance of man without a name. He was surely mysterious as the master analyzed him, listened to him, watched his relaxed movements while he wandered back into the thick line of greenery...

Twirling swiftly on his feet, Jay immediately raced down the path he came. As he drew closer to where he originally entered, he pushed himself harder against the overgrown branches and vines, soon beckoning for his brother out there in the open area of swaying grass and a rocky stream.

"Drake, Drake!"

The increasing hollers of his name caused the islander to change his focus, instantly surprised to discover his brother racing towards him with an alarmed expression. "Jay!" he yelled in return. Speedily, he came over to the man, while Misty and Molly followed behind. As he stood before Jay, he gawked at the master, completely baffled by his dramatic entrance. "What's the matter?" he asked.

"There's a man," Jay panted, his head gesturing towards the trail from which he originated.

Drake cocked an eyebrow. "A man?" he echoed.

"What man?" Misty piped up, just as confused.

"Is he nice?" Molly interjected.

Jay glanced to the girls momentarily, sneering especially at Molly's random question before turning back to his puzzled brother. Drake was peering at him with a not so believable look on his face...as if Jay had _finally_ lost it.

The master narrowed his eyebrows. "Don't look at me like that- There's someone out here!"

Drake raised his hands in defense. "Okay, okay! You_ saw_ a man," he corrected, mostly to pacify his overly riled brother.

"Don't say it like that, either!" Jay barked, becoming paranoid by Drake's patronizing tone. "I'm telling you I just ran into a complete stranger, and he _knew_ my name. He acts as if he knows what's going on!"

A fist was brought close to Misty's chest, addled and scared sea-green eyes darting between the men. She didn't like the sound of Jay's growing hysteria and adamant behavior, now conceiving the development to be a negative, and possibly troublesome, occurrence. "Wh-what does that mean?" she eventually stuttered, looking to Jay for an explanation.

Taking charge, Drake eased the anxious redhead. "Misty, it's okay. Jay, _calm down_," he then ordered steadily, mostly for the girls' sake. "Are you sure it wasn't your mind playing tricks on you?"

"Right," Jay spat, hardly patient for any of his brother's "rational questioning of his current sanity." "My imagination just manifested a living and breathing old guy right before my eyes. And I saw a demonic Nidoran too, who told me I was a schizophrenic and comes with me wherever I go."

Drake frowned in return. He didn't need Jay to be so snarky nor a movie reference to top off their less than sane chat of the day. "He's old?" was what the islander rebutted, somehow surprised by that little fact.

"What does it matter?" Jay made a face. "I'm telling you there's this guy out there, and he wants us to come with him! He said he was anticipating our arrival!"

He ignored Jay's harsh bite of sarcasm, putting on a serious expression as he tried to make sense of his claim. "This doesn't sound right. Don't you think it's just a ploy of Team Rocket's? Trying to lure us into a trap?" Drake suggested, seeing it was the only possibility that made sense to Jay's outrageous insisting.

"Well no- Possibly," he reconsidered, now unsure what to say himself. That was a very likely reality, not one the master found delightful to fall prey to. Something about this old man, though, told Jay his character wasn't as one should say- flawed like a lowly Team Rocket grunt. But that was nothing more than a biased assumption. If anything was for certain, Jay knew stalling wasn't an option nor was debating back and forth on what he saw.

"Listen, I just need you to come with me," he started again with less mania in his voice.

Pausing, Drake studied him. Could Jay have really seen and met a man just minutes into his jaunt through the woods? It seemed unlikely; bizarre and baffling in fact. However, it wasn't as if Jay was embracing it. More so, he too was assaulted with the shock, trying to wrap his head around it. Wanting Drake to see it with his own eyes.

Still, the islander couldn't help but ask. "Why are you so adamant about this?"

"Because- Because I need you to see this!" Jay blurted, not knowing how else to describe his urgency upon the situation.

"All right, all right!"

It was enough to get Drake to agree, sufficient for Jay to already begin his race back into the grand forest. Hurriedly, Drake and the girls followed after Jay, finding it challenging to keep up with him between the overgrown vegetation and ruggedness of the winding trail covered in rocks and unearthed tree roots. None of them could anticipate what they were about to expose, the heightening thrill of bundled nerves and excitement devouring them until Jay made a sudden halt in his mad run.

Catching his breath, the master examined the area, making sure it was the correct location. "He was here, and then he disappeared up there," Jay explained, pointing to the exact spot in which he saw the presence stand and exit.

In confirmation, the three trainers nodded back at him and with exhilarating apprehension, Jay carefully scaled the small steep hill. He clung to low thick branches for support, feet cautiously moving about onto large rocks and solid sections of ground. Out of safety precautions, Drake traveled up the path next, soon motioning for the girls to follow once knowing it was secure enough for them to climb. As Jay traveled closer to the peak of the rigid platform, the prospering wild foliage around him became harder to fight off, continually snapping twigs and pulling his clothes away from the sharp points that wished to cling to him.

Then, pulling back the last thick cluster of a shrub, Jay's eyes dilated.

"No way," he breathed a stunned breath, slowly coming all the way out of the bushes.

"What is it?" both Misty and Drake soon asked in unison, popping up from behind him.

"What's there?" Molly chimed in. It was then, when they were all huddled together, that their jaws dropped in utter stupefaction and bewilderment. Except for Molly, whose rosy complexion brightened with a burst of wonder as if fascinated by the baffling discovery. "Ooo, a house!" she declared. "It looks kinda spooky."

"_Kind of_?" repeated Misty, eyeing the young trainer briefly. "I don't like it at all..." She retracted timidly, biting her lip as her nerves got the best of her with a foreboding tingle shooting up her back.

Misty wasn't the only one who was leery about the dwelling. It was mostly constructed out of wood; not a log cabin by any means, but a genuine house with primitive features and a size rivaling that of Jay's parents' establishment. No one found it to be sinister; rather, it seemed questionable, out of place that a masterfully crafted home of two stories was stationed in a remote forest far from the gloomy town of Lavender. Within seconds, Jay was comforted that he could secure his stable sanity to Drake and the others, and then the obvious question of why the house was placed here consumed him.

Until a friendly voice from below called out.

"Hello! Well, don't be shy! Please, come inside! I have some tea brewing!"

It was the old man as promised. There he was, in what one could define as his front lawn. He was waving, smiling, and beckoning for them to follow the walkway of stairs made out of uneven stone...

They all exchanged mystified looks.

No one was dreaming, but it sure felt like they had slipped into a deep unbreakable slumber.

* * *

_They're brothers... Why didn't I suspect such?_

That thought had enough tenacity to linger with Giovanni throughout the day. And then, throughout a whole week.

He should have seen this one coming. Should have assumed such given the situation. Given how Drake had gone out of his way to ambush the boat and rescue him all those years ago... Cursing silently, Giovanni shook his head for another time. Half-brothers. Related through blood by an illicit affair, only five years apart in age. Of course Ketchum would go to him. Of course he would seek help from the one person Giovanni would never suspect, for he never knew the identity of the young man who saved him up until this point. Now that the crime boss knew of Drake's identity, though, did it really matter? There wasn't much he could squeeze out of the bombshell for his own personal gain, other than- They_ really_ wanted to hide their connection for whatever reasoning. Almost as if ashamed of the truth, almost as if no one was supposed to know.

Maybe _the boy_ didn't know.

A small smirk slipped from Giovanni's lips. Yes, that surely would be a big and exuberant reveal to announce, wouldn't it? One that he was more than delighted to personally proclaim to that prodigal son of Ketchum's! Perhaps the wife, too! Regardless if she knew or not, it would certainly rattle their world, make them feel all the more detached from Ketchum, all the more leery and unforgiving for his supposed abandonment. Construe the man they once recognized into a deceitful, despicable being full of lies and cowardliness unlike any other. One who ran in the shadows of shame.

The blooming of vindictive payback made him smile with glee, however it was not enough to make Giovanni forget the other bit of news he was struggling to grapple with. Jayce Ketchum as the newly declared Pokémon Master... It wasn't at all surprising, considering how blatantly and stunningly skilled he was with the elemental beasts. He had all the time in the world to manage this grand title, working his way up to become what he once dreamed of being at a young and innocent age. The demonstration of his ruthless battling tactics the very night he tried to escape Pallet, the night Giovanni personally challenged him to a match...

There had to be purpose behind this achievement Ketchum made. Slinking around, as if the plane ride and his prime seats to the Kanto region weren't an obvious enough hint of his apparent coming of fortune. He had done some hard digging, hacking and snooping before discovering they were no longer dealing with a measly trainer, but a prevailing Pokémon Master. Was Ketchum going to use his crowning glory against Giovanni? Perhaps recruit the power of the league of Kanto itself, the authorities insisting their dire involvement... The thought alone soured Giovanni's hopeful plans, apprehensive tensions rising within his strong body. But he tried to keep all things in perspective. Reminding himself of the tactful mission he had laid out, how there was no way Ketchum could walk away from his orders without meeting his deserving fate-

Then there was the Cerulean gym leader. The wild card he did not predict would be thrown into the mix. The girl was a waste of time in Giovanni's opinion. Better if she kept quiet before she felt inclined to share with Ketchum's son- unless she already had... Giovanni doubted it. Considering Ketchum's cautiousness, the criminal was certain he swore for the girl not to tell anyone. Maybe Ketchum hadn't even shared all the grizzly details of that fatal night with her...

A bluster of that fatal scorn angered Giovanni, his white teeth flashing as he recalled all that been lost.

But then remembered, what _could_ be gained.

"Giovanni, sir?"

He didn't feel inclined to turn around, staring straight ahead at his great advanced wonder, arms folded behind his back. "Yes?" he said, though it was evident his mind was fixated on something else.

"I can now say we're ready for _Project H_," the voice of a man replied with certainty. He was sporting a white lab coat, a clipboard holding all the key information balanced in his grasp.

Giovanni's eyes hardened into slits.

None of what he knew mattered now. Ketchum would get what he deserved. Those recruits of his would rightfully suffer, and he would crush his family with one curling of his fist.

The world would go down in flames knowing he was in control of all its pawns.

"Show me how it works."

* * *

He had told Brock to go on to the inn without him, though he knew he couldn't lag behind for too long.

Ash was going to give it one more shot. Getting a hold of Harper was harder than he expected. Evidently, she didn't feel inclined to speak with Gary yet, or even hear his case being pled to her. Not that Ash could blame her. But days had passed, and time was drawing awfully close to the arrival of the inn's party...

_Two days,_ Ash reminded himself with a heavy, anticipating gulp.

The lump slid down his throat, then nestled within the canal as Ash anxiously stared at his cellphone. He wasn't sure what it was going to take to get Harper to listen, let alone convince her to return the many messages he left. Every time he called, he kept his composure, but by the fifth call he was beginning to feel like such a harasser, that even he wanted to hang up on himself if the option was possible. Fingers worked away punching the number into his phone. Then, Ash winced. Damn Gary. Damn him for seducing him with a hopeful reality, one that made Ash believe was just a touch away. Not a great distance that spread across the entire galaxy. A dream that was nothing more than a wish to be told upon a shining, out-of-reach star.

Placing the phone to his ear, it rang twice. Then, a voice came on.

"I really don't want to have to ignore your voicemails again, Ash."

A nerve shot up his spine in surprise to hear Harper's voice. Not the less than thrilled tone she was using, for he figured as much being the persistent messenger bird he had become. "I'm sorry for leaving you so many messages, Harper," Ash quickly apologized. "I just need you to hear me out-"

"Gary gave you my number, didn't he?"

She was growing sterner with every response, the evidence of her displeased status making the trainer squirm.

"Uh, kinda-"

"I can't believe him," she scoffed in disbelief. "I can't believe he'd actually put you up to confronting me!"

"Well, he said you ignored his calls," Ash muttered.

"Yeah," Harper snorted, "for good reason, at that. Why is he making you do this, anyway? He was so rude to you. Why do you want to help him?-"

"I just want to clear the air." This part was going to be painful if Ash dared to follow the script Gary instructed him to rehearse. So he decided without contemplation that he wouldn't, and spoke what came instantly to his mind. "Listen, I'm really sorry about what happened at the inn, Harper. I was out of line. _Completely._ It's...kind of embarrassing. But Gary and I have never really had a good relationship. For a while after we competed in the Silver Conference, things really lightened up between us. But recently..." He sighed, trying not to go off topic. "The bottom line is, I feel partially responsible for what happened, and since Gary was having a hard time getting a hold of you...I guess I just wanted to make things right."

He hoped his reasoning didn't sound as lame as it did to his ears. He waited with a fast beating heart for Harper to reply, only to hear her breath back into the phone with a much softer tone at use. "Ash, you don't need to apologize to me. You've owned up to your behavior and frankly, it was out of line for Gary to even ask you to do this. If anything, you being there only made me really see what Gary's like. If anyone feels stupid it's me."

"No-"

"I really,_ really_ liked him, you know?" she carried on depressingly, squelching the raven haired teenager's attempt at refuting. "Gary was so amazing in class, so smart. He even said it was refreshing that I wasn't one of those typical girls where he had to explain the usage of a gazette, and can have an actual intellectual debate with me," she chortled a little, her voice become more light and airy, but nonetheless bore a bittersweet twinge. "I mean, I thought he was the perfect fit compared to the other slew of guys I've dated in the past. But now I'm not sure what to think."

_Perfect._

A huff wanted to fly from Ash's mouth, but he resisted. He'd beg to differ on Gary's temperament if he could have gotten away with it. Wisely, though, he held his tongue and allowed Harper's sorrowful words to sink in. She really did care about Gary, didn't she? Just for a split-second, Ash tried to imagine this image of his old rival that Harper created. Gary couldn't be all bad...could he? On the rare occasion he had proven to be a decent human being, but from general past encounters... Ash furrowed his eyebrows. Wherever their affectionate connection derived from or how it came to be, it was there. And apparently, Gary wasn't the only one who was still harboring endearing feelings, regardless if he openly admitted it to Ash. His implied desperation and insistence for Ash to do _something_ was plenty of affirmation, and while the majority of Ash felt Gary didn't deserve Harper back- he did believe Harper was entitled to some form of comfort or assurance. However he could provide it.

Even if he was bitter about it.

"Harper-" Before proceeding, Ash swallowed and considered his wording. What Brock suggested was about the only logical conclusion Ash could come to, and while he was sure Gary would be beyond infuriated for him to even utter such to Harper, he really had to no other option. If Gary wanted his side of the story explained, his reasoning behind his childish behavior Ash had to give the girl somewhat of a believable answer.

He breathed out for another time. Here went nothing. "If it makes you feel any better, Gary was only acting that way to me out of- jealousy."

Harper's voice rose in sheer confusion. "About what?"

Ash scratched his chin. "Well, um, it's just a hunch but I think Gary thought that we were- I dunno... flirting?" There was a pause. He blushed. "That sounded weird. I'm sorry-"

"No, no, it's okay," Harper hurriedly assured. "I guess I could see Gary being the jealous type- but where would he get that? You're a great guy, Ash. But I hardly know you to just go up and flirt with you!"

Relief poured over his fleshed face. "I know, right? It's crazy! You're really nice, too, but I'm not the kind of guy to well- I just wouldn't do that. It's not right. I think Gary just freaked out for some reason. I don't know why, but he did and he wanted me to look bad and- I'm just sorry about everything."

Flirtatious queues weren't instinctual to Ash, and quite frankly, he felt Gary had read_ way_ too much into his and Harper's interactions. Naturally friendly, Ash tried to be courteous and talkative when the recipient was being equally pleasant. There was no attraction he felt for Harper, and he was glad to know she shared the same view. In fact, it only made Ash wonder all the more where Gary gathered such an absurd and far-fetched assumption. Besides that the two were having a casual conversation, and that his genuine, kind aurora lit up Harper's face. Brightened her complexion in a way that would bring out deep insecurities in Gary...

"Don't be," Harper reassured once more, still trying to wrap her mind around it all herself. "I'm...glad you brought this up. It makes some sense, when I think about. Still can't say I justify his actions, though. I wish he would have just told me."

Ash rolled his eyes. _Same here._

"Plus, I kind of thought you already liked someone after Gary mentioned that girl at lunch."

Wait..._what?_ Before he knew it, Ash felt his entire face turn warm again, causing him to imagine the stark shade of pink now claiming his skin. That girl... Without a doubt Ash knew who Harper was talking about, though his mind barely had any time to react. "Oh uh- N-no," he stumbled nervously, "Misty's just-"

"I saw the way you looked when Gary brought her up," Harper said, smiling softly. "I mean, besides the obvious of you feeling uncomfortable. I know it's none of my business, but if you really like her- you should tell her. You deserve to be with someone too."

He didn't know what to say.

Why was everyone down his throat about Misty? Well,not_ everyone_ was insistent of his feelings for her, but it sure felt like her name was being brought up a lot! Not that he was about to complain outwardly about it. Misty was always a bright presence in his life he never minded hearing about or from. Just thinking about her brought about those strange feelings again, his body temperature soaring, his chest and head heavy with a daze of confusion and a deep desire for exploration... The brilliant cast of familiar sea-green eyes was whisked from his mind at the recollection of Gary's classic smirk. His goading of Misty caused Ash's heart to sink, foolishness and discontent infiltrating the burst of warmth that claimed his pounding heart.

But what did Gary know anyhow? After all, if Harper thought there was _something_ there... Call it girl intuition? He'd rather take anything she said seriously before the likes of Gary dared to open his mouth. Harper wouldn't play with him like that, and Ash couldn't deny he wasn't feeling a bit different about things lately. About her... Oh, what was the point in even giving the thought the time of day? For all he knew, Misty already_ had_ a boyfriend and this sudden urge to reexamine his newfound emotions was a waste of time. Then again, Ash couldn't remember a time in which Misty mentioned having a significant male companion in her life...

Eventually, Ash released his body from its stiffened state and shook his head. This was just too much to take in.

"Th-thanks?" he replied slowly.

"No problem," Harper responded. Evidently, she hadn't caught on to the awkwardness in Ash's voice. Now it was her turn for her own thoughts to trail, becoming vulnerable as the subject at hand went back into focus. "So...I'm assuming Gary wants me to get back together with him? And that my supposed 'crush' on you would be enough for me to hear you out?"

"Yeah," Ash laughed a little, hearing again how ridiculous the whole thing sounded. "And he wants to take you somewhere, too."

While Ash's thought process was concentrated on relaying details of Gary's mater plan to Harper, the certain redhead who everyone made out to be a good match for him was encroaching in the back of his mind. Slowly, he was beginning to see those deep, beautiful eyes again, submersing himself in a dreamy trance. In a hypothetical reality, Ash supposed Misty had earned a special place in his heart, one that had never been filled before- as if waiting for the right person.

Recognizing what he felt- Ash wasn't sure if he was ready to tell Misty _anything_... But it certainly gave him a lot to think about.

* * *

"I don't get many visitors, so it's nice to have company for once. But I don't mind the quietness out here. It's peaceful. Definitely a place to reflect and reexamine one's life."

The inside of the grand house appeared just as woodsy as the outside. Only, the interior of the home was more refined, sculpted by articulate hands with every smooth and nicely polished carving. Currently, Jay and the others were seated at what appeared to be an antique table in the kitchen. It was a tighter room, much smaller compared to the glimpse they got of what looked like a living area on the other side. The overall domain was fairly cool despite the rising temperature outside, and the new presence in their company appeared more than generous to make their stay an agreeable one, already offering drinks and food for their famished stomachs. For Jay, however, his cautious guard remained unyielding.

As they sat with fiddling hands in silence, an archaic stove that rested a steaming pot of boiling water soon erupted in a loud screech, the spout from the kettle crying for relief off the hot surface.

Carefully, the old man removed the kettle onto a cool burner, then turned and motioned towards a container filled with white sweet granulates on the counter. "Would anyone care for some sugar?" he offered.

"Me!"

Molly was the first to raise her hand, leaning across the table like a child who was certain they had the correct answer to a challenging question in class. Her enthusiasm for pure candy, however, was halted by a swift hand of Jay's. It rose with a steady gaze of his eyes, the blue tint turning cold as he directed is attention to the older man.

"Hold on," he started, his sharpness causing Molly to sink depressingly into her chair. "Before you convince us we're going to have this warm and cozy experience with you, you mind telling us your name first?"

The stark and rather rude comment did not seem to rub the aging man the wrong way. "You are an impetuous man at times, Jayce," he instead said, the words blunt but nonetheless spoken in a calm, direct tone. "If you insist on knowing my name, you may refer to me as Dr. Donald Kelly. Though, I prefer just being called Donald."

Gob smacked, Jay didn't even have the chance to rebuke on his apparent rash trait. Nor was he given the chance to first croak out a reply in astonishment.

"Wait," Drake intervened, bafflement written across his face. "_You're_ Donald Kelly?"

"The one and the only," he replied with a modest smile.

"Did Samuel Oak contact you?" Jay jumped in, his impending excitement riding in the back of his vocal cords.

"Samuel Oak?" Kelly pondered for a brief time, and then flashed his gaze back at the anxious trainers. "I haven't seen nor heard from him for many years. How is he doing? Quite well, I assume? He was an excellent student when I knew him at the university."

Sitting back, Jay's face became inscrutable. He kept on staring at the smiling Kelly, hardly at ease by his placid and almost what felt like reserved side. That and nothing he was being told was making sense. As his years of traveling alone wore on him, Jay had enhanced his already keen eye for suspicion. Picking up body language or fluctuation in tone. But Kelly showed none of the obvious sides. He was truly a difficult one to study, which only furthered Jay's already rising temper. He didn't like to be misled and he certainly didn't like it when all logical explanations went right out the window.

Now he was just being wary, completely thrown for a loop that Sam was not the obvious resource who had come in contact with Kelly. It wasn't as if Sam had mentioned he had successfully gotten in touch with the older gentlemen. And it wasn't as if he and Jay were on their normal civil terms, either...

"So you haven't heard from Sam," Jay started, trying to keep his thoughts somewhat straight. "Then how in the world did you know we were coming this way and that we discussed looking for you?"

"I'm not a mind reader, Jayce, if that's what you're implying," Kelly answered thoughtfully as he finally poured himself some tea once serving everyone else. "I have outside resources of my own."

"You mean people?" the master assumed with a watchful eye.

It was subtle, but by the corner of Kelly's mouth, the master saw a twitch of the old man's lip rise. Leaning back in his seat, Jay's eyes narrowed, hardly amused by the dismissing of his question. He had a feeling his logical suspicion was incorrect, which only added to his maddening case of befuddlement. Why was this once successful Pokémon enthusiast keeping what felt like every form of a decent explanation to himself? And why did he fall off the grid, anyway? To this place? Out in the middle of nowhere?

The minute they made their cautious journey down the steep rugged hillside to the house, Jay watched the stranger with a careful eye of scrutiny. He felt an unexplainable chill as he stepped onto the property, unsure of what to make of the man's continual gentle smiles and warm gestures. On the surface, he seemed trustworthy, though to Jay it seemed he had layers comparable to an onion. The more skin you pulled back and removed, the stronger the intense odor became. As if he was hiding something... Not that Jay was fully convinced he was, in the simplest of terms, bad. After being on the run for so long, he could sense a harming presence a mile away. This man, however- no. He couldn't possibly be with the likes of Team Rocket. No…or yes? Something was amiss. And Jay just couldn't put his finger on it.

"So you won't talk," Jay soon concluded, surprising everyone with his blunt and stern tone. "This isn't a game, Kelly."

He seemed unmoved. "Please, call me Donald."

The polite insistent of a first name basis, as if they were friends, was also annoying Jay's wavering patience. "I would prefer not to," he swiftly replied. "What I would prefer is for you to give me a straight answer."

"I'm here to help you, Jayce," he assured, as if it helped. "Not give you grievances."

For a moment, Jay bristled, thinking the_ exact_ opposite. Maybe he was feeling more agitated lately because of Sam's abrupt decision to make the final say. Deep down Jay knew it wasn't helping, and admitting it aloud to Drake was painstaking enough. For once, he wanted things to go his way, the _right_ way in order for this chaos to end on a hopeful note. The way _he_ intended it from the start. Being blindsided by Sam and now this mystifying figure that dismissed dire questions so plainly yet annoyingly left Jay an explosive bundle of nerves. His head was feeling heavy, tired, and foggy. Eerily similar to how he felt when the secure world he knew crumbled into nothing, his self unjustly distorted into a deceitful, hurtful, and selfish man.

Adjusting himself in his seat, Jay's eyes fixed in a cold stare, glaring with a rumble in his throat. "Listen, Kelly, over the years I've become one who doesn't take things like beating around the bush lightly. Especially when I'm being _played_ with. So I suggest you start talking and give me the information I want," he warned sharply.

Kelly took a sip of his tea. He seemed to pause before swallowing, as if fully enjoying the taste the bitter liquid brought. Then, he returned the ruffled master a quizzical expression. "Do you always let paranoia control you?"

A loud growl emerged instantly. "This isn't paranoia; this is you screwing with us for whatever sick personal benefit you get out of it! You came the hell out of nowhere and still, you expect me to be all okay with your sudden appearance and knowledge of us being in some kind of trouble?! I have every right to demand for answers and I intend to get them!"

Jay raged with such passion, no one was prepared for him to rise from his seat and slam his open palms on the table. The worn wooden structure rattled by the quaking touch, both Misty and Molly stiff and spooked at the sudden fury burning throughout Jay. Acting to ease his out-of-line brother, Drake immediately intervened and rose with a challenging rise in his voice.

"Jay, calm down!" the islander commanded, lunging forward and tightly clenching Jay's toned arm.

"I will _not_ calm down!" Jay roared in return, tearing away from his brother's firm grasp. With sheer determination, he snapped his attention back at Kelly and, most unexpectedly, grabbed the old man by the collar of his shirt and yanked him over the table. "You're working with Team Rocket, aren't you?" he accused fiercely with a mild shake of his coiled fist. "That's why you won't say anything, isn't it?!"

Another immense wave of astonishment and fright struck the two petrified girls, now abandoning their chairs and backing up. They bit their tongues, unsure if speaking or intervening would do any good. Molly especially didn't feel inclined to jump in the middle of the raging action, grabbing a hold of Misty's arm out of security with shaking blue eyes. Surprised by the young girl's firm grasp, Misty looked to her, then back at the equally startled and vexed Drake. This side of Jay... She wasn't accustomed to it, and Misty wasn't sure if she liked it. Now she was positive whatever he and Drake were discussing earlier was a cause for his obviously flared temper, and Kelly's evasiveness had just managed to make him spiral downward.

Granted, there was no justifying his behavior, but he must have struck out for a reason. For genuine discomfort...

"Jay, stop! STOP IT!"

Strong hands seized Jay's locked fist, Drake's fingers working to break Kelly free from his brother's violent reaction. He had never seen Jay lash out so aggressively, so stirred with fury he decided self-control meant nothing. There was no time for him to figure out his brother's wild range of emotions, for Drake was solely focused on diffusing a confrontation before it really turned ferocious. At last, the struggle ended as hurriedly as it had morphed, Jay's fingers relaxing and eventually, bitterly giving up their intimidating hold. With a heave, the master shoved Kelly backwards, having him plop down into his chair with his head hanging low.

Still standing, Jay breathed out a couple deep breaths through his nostrils. He refused to glance away from Kelly even with Drake glaring at him, his icy eyes hardening all the more as he waited for the old man to regain his composure.

"I didn't intend to get you so riled," Kelly coughed with a hoarse voice, adjusting the wrinkled collar of his shirt. "To your relief I have no partnership with Team Rocket, nor any bad intentions towards any of you. Like I said, I wish to help."

The flicker of something in his eyes caused Jay's gaze to soften, though he couldn't fully analyze it as a feminine voice rose with qualm.

"Then how do you know who Mr. Ketchum is? And that we need help?" It was Misty who interrupted Jay's train of thought. She appeared timid, not moving from her spot, but was nevertheless firm in her tone and stance.

"I'm sure that through the grapevine you have heard of my research conducting that of the origins of legendaries," Kelly responded, eyes dashing to the redhead then to the towering Jay.

Misty nodded. "Prof. Oak mentioned it."

"When I was much younger, I traveled across all regions and in doing so, I have come to know, how should I put it? Hot spots," he clarified thoughtfully.

"Hot spots?" Misty echoed. She wasn't sure what he was getting at. "What does that mean?"

"It means, young lady, that I have discovered particular areas that some legendaries like to roam to- specifically, Ho-Oh's loyal servants."

Kelly had turned his attention to Jay for another time, an indicator he was answering the first of the master's many questions. Ironically, it wasn't one raging through Jay's mind, however it was strange and compelling enough for him to cock his head with wonder. Areas where the legendary beasts congregated... Had Kelly truly found what most researchers would die trying to locate, to see just once? It was likely Kelly had been here a long time given the old structure of the house, that he had been possibly studying the beasts from a distance, which would explain why he removed himself from the outside world entirely...

But that still didn't clarify everything.

"You don't mean Entei, Raikou, and Suicune?" Drake assumed, his reply logical, yet the concept was difficult to fully accept.

Kelly nodded without hesitation. "That's exactly who I mean. I settled here on purpose as you can imagine. This area is remote, rugged, and far enough from Lavender Town for anyone to come looking. Except you."

Jay sneered at this. "We didn't come here looking for anything. _You_ found us."

"Which is why I must tell you this: Within the last few months, Suicune specifically has traveled here more often than ever before. For a while, it rarely ever came, but now it seems the creature comes almost weekly. I believe it senses a disturbance here in Kanto, that great trouble is brewing. Perhaps waiting for orders from its creator. Or searching for someone."

Worn blue eyes flickered back to Jay's icy stare once more, reading into something deeper than the master was able to comprehend at the moment. Suicune was rumored to be the closest ally of Ho-Oh's followers out of all the legendary beasts, its greatest power being the gift of purifying blemished water. There was no doubt in Jay's mind that Kelly knew of this. Possibly more that he was sharing, for the older man was, after all, a scholar in the subject of legendaries. Could Suicune be searching for someone as pure as it waters? One that wouldn't taint a single drop of the natural clear liquid?

_That would make sense with what Sam_ _said..._ Jay's thoughts trailed silently, trying to connect the dots._ But still- what does Giovanni need the legendary beasts for? Are they merely bait for Ho-Oh? Like me? And that still doesn't explain how Kelly knows me..._

Jay tried to shake off that last lingering and bothersome thought, his face fixed with another serious scowl. "So what are you proposing?" he started, folding his arms over his chest. "That we were meant to come here? To wait for Suicune?"

"I think it's best you all stay here for the time being until Suicune comes," Kelly instead answered.

A groan was desperately crying to be released. Jay was irked how the old man always seemed to evade his questions.

"And how long will that take?" Drake mused aloud. Time was of the essence, and just like his travelling companions, he wanted to dodge an ambush attack from Team Rocket if it could be avoided.

"It will make its presence known to us soon enough," the old man reassured.

"Because of the wind!" Molly abruptly blurted.

All eyes were now focused on the bubbly girl still standing beside Misty, her lips steadily unleashing a meek smile once seeing some of the built-up tension had died down. With Spencer's vast amount of knowledge, it was no wonder the girl knew of the old legend surrounding the famous water beast.

And Kelly appeared both surprised and pleased by this. "Yes," he said, giving her a small smile. "Whenever the wind blows from the north, Suicune shall come. Now, I can assure you you're all safe here." He rose from his chair with creaky knees, a hand gently heeding assurance as he witnessed multiple mouths open. "Just for as long as we need. But enough talk for now. You're all clearly in need of rest. Why don't you relax, and perhaps later, I'll feel inclined to answer some questions before you throw more at me, Jayce."

Was that supposed to be cheeky? It felt a little to the silent master, his expression stony with that infamous pristine mask of concealment. Currently, he wasn't sure what to feel or how he should be feeling. Kelly was still an anomaly to him in many respects and yet- Suicune's appearance... In the back of his mind, like a gloomy cloud ready to break thunder, Jay wondered if he was being deliberately obtuse over the sudden change in course. As if, while nothing Kelly said made coherent, concrete sense, something in between the lines _did_. And in anticipating the worse, he had been remiss.

Like Sam had warned.

* * *

Footsteps clobbered the inn floorboards every which way.

A couple of days before, all the guests had been officially checked out of the Butterfree Inn, now clearing the entire establishment for the big bash to come. Preparations were being made ahead of time both in decorations and food, as all workers were busily attending to their designated jobs with speeding minds and steps. Ash, Dani, and Brock volunteered their services once hearing about the overwhelming amount of work Delia and the others had to tackle days earlier. So the trainers thought it best to lend a hand, switching back and forth between every unfinished task needing completion. Through Leah's directions, Ash and Dani found themselves assembling the dining hall, while Brock was off sprucing up the front porch and trimming back the flourishing rose bushes. Being outside, Pikachu decided to venture off with Brock, enjoying the summer air and roaming the front yard.

With her keen eye for design and color, Dani was left to choosing streamers, complementing the flowers Delia planned to pick and arrange the day of the party. Ash's part was assisting his cousin in hanging the long streamers up on step stools, carefully suspending the bright additions to the corners of walls and parts of the ceiling as they worked around the servers setting up the tables. It was a bit of an arduous task with so many people to work around, but the end result was worth the endeavor.

By midafternoon the cousins had completed their assigned project and stood back to admire the tasteful work that now engulfed the cheery dining area. It was pleasant to gaze at and mildly discuss the results of their efforts, the pleasing and calming colors aiding in settling Ash's jumbled mind and uneasy nerves. For once in the last two weeks, Ash felt things were finally coming together. Besides scrutinizing his relationship with Misty and the unidentified boy in the photo with his dad... He wanted to deal with both of those troubles later. As for now, he was so close to at last seeking the resolve, comfort, and hopefully _closure _he had dreamed about, that the teenager did not want to spoil an ounce of his excitement. All was going according to plan. Ash had gotten a hold of Harper and convinced her to come, and he had done so without letting a single soul know about it. Except now he had to tell...

"I need to talk to you. Get going."

He was lost in thought as Dani talked to him, but had not drifted too far in his head to not pick up on the demanding voice ringing in his ear. Turning his attention to the side, Ash discovered Gary standing before him with creased brows and motioning to Dani, as if she needed to make a grand exit on the spot as he barged in. Despite the cooperation with Harper, Ash still wasn't in the mood to talk to his former rival, especially at the _inn_ with _everyone_ running about.

"What's that?" Ash snapped sarcastically, but still keeping his composure. "Would you like to talk to me privately for a moment without interrupting the middle of our conversation? Why yes, Gary, you can definitely cut in. We were just wrapping up. Thank you so much for phrasing it in such a kind and polite manner."

"Don't you have a Miltank's utters to feel up?" Gary swiftly threw at Dani, completely ignoring Ash. "Maybe a Mareep that's in desperate need of shaving so you can make one of those ugly, itchy sweaters in time for the holidays? Slosh around with the Tepig and dine with them? Or do want to palpate me first like one of your overweight heifers?"

Shockingly, Dani did not gasp, holler, or even so much as flinch at the subtle smirk pulling on Gary's lips. What was not surprising was the bark that came beside the girl, and the person tightening their fists as they glowered at the cocky brunette.

"Knock it off, Gary!" Ash ordered, completely dumbfounded by how far he had stooped.

"I know, right?" Gary snorted, acting as if he was agreeing with his cousin. "The thought alone of being palpated is not only revolting but extremely painful."

"Leave Dani alone and stop terrorizing her with your disgusting comments. I _mean_ it." He was holding himself back incredibly between every raging muscle pounding to be released and sprung upon his ex rival's face.

Allowing the smirk to fully grow, Gary huffed out of amusement. "That was an adorable attempt of assertiveness on your part, Ashy. Could grit your teeth a little harder? I think it would be more convincing if you did."

Unintentionally, the pressure of Ash's grinding teeth deepened. "I'm serious!"

"Lower your hackles," the brunette waved passively, "it's very unbecoming and I'm sure your mother wouldn't want to see you this way. Besides, I'm just trying to give Dani some human contact. All day she talks to farm animals and your grandfather's half-attempt at the English language."

A snarl was begging to be released._ You talk to Pokémon all day too, you idiot! _Was any of this really a surprise? Of course it wasn't, but that didn't mean Gary's snide comments weren't working away on Ash's thinning tolerance. He didn't want to explode, not at the inn _again_, not with Delia in the kitchen possibly overhearing his increasing shouts.

"Gary, I've learned not to waste my energy with you," Dani shot back with creased eyebrows. "Considering anything I say that is remotely humane won't change you to be a better person."

"I'm thrilled to hear we won't be chatting that much then," he simply smiled.

"Glad we're on the same page." She was about to walk away before stopping at Gary's shoulder. Then, a faint catty grin formed across her lips. "But if push comes to shove in us having contact, I'm sure words still won't be used. More like you'll be facing a nice roll-out attack from one of my, how did you say it? Overweight heifers? Remember that."

And with that, Dani strolled off with a stride full of superior confidence. Peering over his shoulder, Gary watched Dani bitterly until she disappeared back towards the entrance, for she was most likely going to go talk with Brock. Ash hoped her wandering eye at him wouldn't lead to any skeptical inquiries, and that she wouldn't raise any of her concerns with Brock. He would simply have to tell them it was just Gary being Gary. Impudent, intrusive, pompous, and downright unbearable.

Steadily, Gary met Ash's eyes and folded his arms over his chest. "That's cute, Ash," he couldn't resist grinning. "You still have your big cousin, who's a _girl_, might I add, pick your fights for you. What are you gonna do when you're all alone out in the real world? Have her on speed dial?"

"It's amazing how you're able to hide those devil horns from out of your head so well," Ash snarled sarcastically in return. "Now, what do you want, Gary?"

Instead of receiving a direct answer as he expected, all Ash got was his cousin looking randomly about. The raven haired teenager narrowed his brows at this, until Gary cocked his focus back with a smug look. "I thought you said there was going to be a wanted poster of me?"

"Tracey's still working on it," he snapped. "Capturing all the fine details, like your smirk."

Actually Tracey hadn't been commissioned for such a poster. At this rate, Ash was going to suggest the idea to Michelle...which wouldn't surprise him if she was one-hundred percent on board.

Growing tired of their banter, Gary swiftly changed the subject. "No need to get snippy. I just came by to see if you were able to get Harper to come. I mean, it has been- oh gosh, almost_ two_ whole weeks?" he asked, acting as if it was an innocent revelation to his system. "My, that's cutting it close to your mom's barn raising shindig _and_ our little deal, isn't it?"

"Is it cutting it that close?" Ash mocked, matching his cousin's facetious tone.

Gary nodded with forced lowered eyebrows. "I'm afraid it is."

A finger was pressed to Ash's lips as chocolate eyes wandered. "Hmm. Well..."

That 'well' lingered long enough for Gary to become testy, his nerves spiking as if true emotions reacted with concern. "Well what?" the brunette soon frowned.

"Let me think," Ash continued to ponder. "Now what did Harper say again? No?"

"_No_?" Gary croaked loudly.

Ash resisted a smile. "Or was it yes?" he teased again.

Now catching on, Gary felt his cheeks flush with embarrassment. "Uggh, stop messing with me!" he groaned. "Just tell me if she said she'd come!"

"Yes."

Gary blinked. "_Yes_, she'll come?"

"Do I need to repeat myself?"

That wasn't needed. Though he wouldn't let it be known, a cascading rain of relief poured over Gary's tense mind. That's all he wanted to hear. He was stupefied his little scheme worked wonders, and while he was much too immodest to thank Ash outwardly- he had to hand it to his cousin. He didn't think making Ash his puppet would be so easy that he would actually reap the rewards. Celebrating wasn't an option quite yet. If he was going to savor this great triumph, Gary was still going to have to hold up to his end of the bargain.

"Fine," Gary replied sourly. "Did you also tell her all the details I told you mention? Or did you forget?"

"I told her, and she said she'd come to the party. You should be lucky she's reconsidering you," Ash added with a heedful twinge. "Harper's a nice girl and she doesn't deserve to be treated this way."

Like Gary needed to be reminded of that. That's_ why_ he went to all this trouble to craft this ludicrous plan.

"What?" the brunette made a face. "You want her?"

Ash scoffed. "Don't be stupid," he retorted. "I just don't like people being manipulated or lied to. And if this is going to work you're going to have to get along with me. Leave our fights out of this. That's the only way this will work. _Her_ terms not mine."

"Whatever it takes," Gary shrugged.

"And you should remember to treat her right. Harper has feelings too and she doesn't deserve to deal with any of your crap."

A more pensive and speculative look was thrown back at the lecturing Ash. Hands placed on hips as Gary gave an inquisitive eye. "Are you sure you haven't moved on from Red?" he boldly questioned.

_Red?_ Ash had a feeling in the pit of his gut as to whom Gary was so affectionately referring to. It was his turn for his cheeks and ears to flush. "You know what I mean," he growled, knowing his cousin was just trying to get him flustered. "But _I_ don't know if you get how serious Harper was about this. She said she wants to give you guys another try, but one screw-up on your end and she's gone."

This seemed to drill something into Gary's thick skull, his scoff and cast of peeved eyes sufficient evidence. "You really think I don't get it?" he countered, as if insulted. "I'm not an idiot, Ash. By what damage has been done, I think I can play nice with you for one night and not, as you say, 'screw-up.'"

Mumbling something to himself, Gary permitted his gaze to meander away from Ash. Something struck a chord inside the novice researcher. The constant rolling of his eyes, grumbling, and fixed glower were a bountiful amount of physical reactions to explain his current state. Perhaps what he was thinking. It was then Ash visually saw how much pressure Gary had on his shoulders behind the defensive mechanism of his textbook smirk. How he was determined to make this work, now knowing the terms his girlfriend set if she was to come to the party.

How he was worried if the turnout would be a success...

"Wow," Ash gawked in mild amazement.

Immediately, Gary's deep trance broke. "What?" he asked brusquely, annoyed by his cousin's random interruption.

"You were pretty convinced that Harper wouldn't listen to you, so you went as far as to have me call her," Ash explained plainly.

"You're just now figuring that one out?" snorted Gary, taking the trainer for a fool.

"No. Except for the reason why you wanted_ me_ to call her."

A perplexed look crossed Gary's face, hardly having the time to play this silly little charade he was starting. "What are you babbling about, Ash?"

"You think Harper has a crush on me," Ash dared to leak. A mischievous smile at last bloomed as he folded his arms over his chest, now circling a stiff Gary while relishing the thought of having the upper hand. "And while I'm sure that hurts your man pride, you were obviously desperate enough to do what you had to do to get her to listen. Even if it meant her talking to a guy _you_ believed she liked. Am I right?"

There was a short pause.

Preparation was underway for a typical response whether that be Gary rashly denying Ash's assertions or becoming so angered by it all he'd march out with some ridiculous sort of threat. As wrong as it was to taunt and make Gary feel vulnerable, it was a glorious occasion for Ash. It was rare to be the one to call Gary out on his insecurities, to be the one to trick him at his own game, and actually see him try to muster a decent reaction without sounding like a complete fool. To Ash's surprise, however, all he received was another faint, unfazed smile from the brunette, beaming at him with poised and bumptious eyes.

"Reverse psychology- not your forte, sporto," Gary finally said. "Stick to being everyone's pal they can count on in hard times, won't you?"

The pat he gave Ash on the shoulder was, in the teenager's eyes, a demeaning gesture. So fine. Gary wouldn't admit to any of it. That didn't mean Ash was about to let Gary slither away without properly ending the conversation. Especially since _his _half of the arrangement hadn't been addressed.

And he deserved to get what he desired after being given the runaround.

"Hey." Ash's calm but stern bark led to his cousin stopping in his tracks, feet swaying just slightly to meet chocolate eyes once again. "Don't forget about what you promised me," he reminded seriously.

The masking of the notorious smirk emerged. "Oh, don't worry, I haven't."

* * *

"You two just stay right there, and let me get the little surprise!"

Leah and Delia exchanged a look as they stood off to the side in the bustling kitchen. Michelle was on her high for the week, her perky attitude matching her blue and pink patterned bandanna as she scurried to the dessert refrigerator. Her expression flourished with anticipated excitement as she reached for the fridge handle, already alerting the women of what she had in store.

"Something for us to taste, I presume?" Leah joked warmly, placing her hands on her hips.

Michelle giggled. "You know me too well, sweetie. I promise you're gonna love it. You'll love it so much I think you'll want to squeeze it onto the dessert menu!"

"Michelle, you're going to wear yourself out," Delia said with a weak smile and voice of concern. "We already have four dessert options for the evening, _plus_ a dark chocolate fountain with fruit from _every_ island of the Orange Islands!"

They had certainly gone all out. The bill alone was a big enough indicator. It was worth every cent, though. Seeing they were celebrating fifty-five years of business success, the women decided they might as well make their vision of a lavish party come true. And evidently, Michelle was feeling the pressure of making the event as elegant and spectacular as possible that her routine had been nothing but consistent cooking and baking. She and her work crew were working with so much dedication and vigor that the sous chefs were nearly wiped out from all the whisking, slicing, and decorating they had endured. Every order Michelle gave was to not only have the people of Pallet admire their genuinely perfected work, but to, most importantly, honor the woman she personally owed everything to.

"I know. But this evening is such a big deal," the chef began to elucidate, her heartwarming insistence evident in her voice. "I just want everything to be perfect. Your grandma worked so hard to make this place what it is; after I moved out of the big city she gave me a job immediately as the head chef, and then she left this place to your mom and me after she passed away... She gave us a real start." A sigh fell from her mouth, overcome by the memories. "Hazel was one incredible woman, and I want her memory to be honored; to thank her for everything she's done for us."

"And we _will_ do that," Delia assured with a kind hand to the shoulder, agreeing full-heartedly. "We already are!"

Claiming that Hazel Applebaum wasn't a hardworking and caring Samaritan was the equivalent of uttering a sin. While her time with her grandmother was cut short at the age of twenty, Delia could never forget how amazing of a woman Hazel was. And how she inspired her to be what she had become. Thinking back on the sweet and innocent times so long ago, Delia recalled her once little feet stepping up on a step stool in that very kitchen, and with big, curious eyes, observed her grandma as she made her famous homemade piecrust. _The_ piecrust that always won first place at the fair. The very one Delia learned from the woman who created and shared the secret trick to its superb flakiness, texture, and taste.

The very one Ash loved to eat.

From the side, Leah swooped in and placed a tender hand on her friend's shoulder. "Michelle, my mom wouldn't want you to exhaust yourself like this. And if she was here, she'd be telling you that the menu's _already_ perfect. Besides, we're only two days away from the party. Do you really want to add on another item?"

"I've done it in a couple of hours before the actual hoopla," she replied with a meek grin as if that counted.

"Well, that's why this hoopla was planned in advance," Leah countered teasingly.

"All right," Michelle caved in reluctantly. She then looked back at her friend with a bite of her lip, that sheepish grin returning with a clamping together of her hands. "But can I at least have you guys taste it? I think at the very least we should add it to our regular dessert menu."

Leah chuckled, expecting such. "Of course."

The agreement seemed to satisfy Michelle, for she proceeded to nod and eagerly roam back to the fridge. Then, she clenched the handle of the cooling device and swung it open. "Let me just-" She dipped her head in, froze, and frowned.

Then there was a pause.

"Where is it?" the women heard her mutter, something troubling flowing from her mouth.

Delia raised an eyebrow in confusion. "Michelle?"

Suddenly out of the blue, Michelle's voice raised higher and higher, the sound of fingers digging into the shelves evident as she moved from side to side. "Where is it?_ Whereisitwhereisit_?!"

"Where's what?" Leah asked, just as addled as her daughter.

Frantic hands were all over the refrigerator, scurrying to one shelf and then to the next. Michelle's mannerisms were obviously manic, large eyes of bewilderment and panic as her struggled to grapple the reality that threw her for a loop of utter hysterics.

"I can't believe this! I cannot believe this!" the chef belted in disbelief.

Backing up, the fridge door slammed on its own, her hands too busily working away at rubbing her temples. Coming up from each side, Delia and Leah eased the frenzied woman, both trying to calm her in order for the situation to be explained.

"Michelle, breathe, breathe," Leah commanded gently as she watched her friend follow through and take deep steady breaths. Once seeing Michelle was soothed, she began her questioning. "Now, what's the matter?"

"Some- some little bastard came in here, rummaged through my dessert rack, and_ stole_ my accidentally genius recipe of strawberry shortcake!" she cried out, frustration and distraught mingling together. "When I was making the dessert, I reached for the vanilla extract, but instead grabbed the almond and I didn't realize it 'til I was done pouring it in the batter. So I tasted it when it came out of the oven and it was _really_ good and I thought, hey, why don't I run this by Leah and Delia? If I like it I'm sure they'll love it!

"Oh, and I had everything prepped!" she soon went off topic with her already strained and disconnected rambling, looking to both the women with sheer disappointment across her face. "The homemade strawberry ice cream I set to freeze and the dollop of whip cream for garnishing with the little bit of greenery- My hand was _exhausted_ from whipping that stupid cream to death, and they also nearly suffered from frostbite when I tried to place the ice cream in that dang over-packed freezer!-"

Her words eventually faded into a loud moan, causing Delia and Leah to exchange a look in unison. When Michelle became riled up and out of sorts, it was obvious to all. The expressions by the sous chefs indicated they too were unaware of the apparent disappearance of the 'accidentally genius' strawberry shortcake, hardly knowing what to say to ease the tension. Silly it sounded to become so unglued over a dessert, but this was Michelle they were dealing with. The woman lived for her art form, and thieves in her kitchen were one of the last things she would tolerate nor handle well. After all, it felt as if she was losing her mind, considering it seemed she was unable to keep track of the very food she _personally _placed in that refrigerator.

Out of comfort, Delia handed the ruffled woman a water bottle and watched her twist off the cap. "Michelle, are you sure it's not in there?" she asked, just in case this was all being blown out of proportion.

But Michelle was obdurate about it. "I'm telling you none of them are there! Not the biscuits, not the strawberries! Someone stole and ate six shortcakes! _Six_!"

Six was quite a number of sweets to consume. But who had the hardy stomach and desire to stuff their face full of sugary delights?

"Who would do such a thing?" Leah questioned, unable to think of anyone plausible at the moment.

It was then Michelle huffed out a deep inhale from her nostrils, hesitant to speak as a possible piece to the mystery of the missing shortcakes ran through her mind. Eventually, she swallowed and looked to her partner in business. "Well, I didn't want to worry you with this, but I think this has happened before."

Leah's eyes grew huge. "What?"

"A while ago, Marco told me that lately after he closes up for the night, he comes in the next day noticing some the desserts he and I prepped that very night have vanished. _Vanished_. Vanished out of thin air!" she dramatically declared. "Now, unless we have a boogieman in our midst who enjoys a nice slice of orange-infused olive oil cake, a good dozen of Torkoal back cookies, a whole loaf of banana bread, or an _entire _tray of gooey cream cheese cinnamon rolls, then this stealing of delicious and fattening goodness has been committed by one of our very own!"

That was a lot of stolen desserts. And boogieman being the culprit was slim to none.

It was all more than Leah could handle hearing. She only wondered why on earth Michelle and her head sous chef Marco hadn't bothered to say anything up until this point. If there were robberies taking place in _their_ inn, she wanted it sorted out and for the people who committed the crimes to be held responsible. Not allow them to repeatedly steal from right underneath their noses!

"Michelle, why didn't you tell me?"

"Because I didn't want to worry you," she replied, sincerely sorry she hadn't said anything before it all spun out of control. "These past few weeks we've been having so many people stay because of the season, and I thought if Marco and I stayed after long enough we could catch the thief red-handed. But every time we did a stakeout- nothing! And maybe we did have to throw out some desserts," she reconsidered for a brief moment. "Still, this seems fishy because it's happened so many times now."

"Let's just think," Delia soon methodically ordered, trying to take this all in step by step. "Who would be the most likely to get into this fridge?"

"Well, we're constantly in it," Michelle answered, referring to herself and her workers, who also all nodded in agreement. "We've all been working here for _years_. You know everyone! None of us would have decided to randomly do this!"

"Then it has to be a server," Leah reasoned.

"I don't know," Michelle sighed, shaking her head. She hated to accuse anyone, but now that Leah mentioned the servers, something clicked off in her mind that she couldn't dismiss. "Maybe one of the new severs we hired for the party is doing this. It didn't start happening 'til- Jason and Celia!" she suddenly blurted, dumbstruck as to how it was all beginning to make sense. "It might be them with the way they jug down their lunch. And I've been trying to hold this back, but it's too odd that those are their names. Especially since you took them in," she said weakly, now looking to Delia with an obvious hesitancy in her voice.

But Delia took no offense to it. "What do you mean?" she instead asked, perplexed.

Now it was Michelle's turn to look puzzled. "You haven't noticed?"

"Noticed what?"

Michelle frowned. "Never mind."

Bringing the subject back into focus, Leah cut in. "Before we go accusing them and fire the wrong people, why don't we just talk to them first?"

"You're right. You're right, Leah," Michelle repeatedly nodded, still trying to calm herself before jumping the gun again. "I mean, it could be anyone."

"Yes. Yes it could," Delia agreed soon after. "And I would just hate to think ill of them," she sighed, placing a delicate hand on her cheek. "They've been on time every day to work; Jason especially has gone above and beyond with picking up extra shifts and sprucing up the tables with new flower arrangements. And he made those adorable name-tags everyone loves so much. Plus I know they sincerely need the money, being on their own for the first time."

Yes, Jason and Celia had surely proven themselves to be sedulous workers just like the rest of the staff. Delia herself felt humble in being able to help a couple in need of work with a decent pay. She could relate to struggling after all, and seeing she had suggested their hiring to her mother, the woman would feel down right awful if the pair turned out to be relentless shortcake burglars.

"They are a _little_ strange, though."

That mumble alone caught Delia's attention, making the woman lower her eyebrows. "_Michelle_," she admonished.

"Listen," the older woman started openly, "I know I've got my own weird quirks, I'm not going to deny that, but the way those two move about...it just seems like they're, I dunno, sneaking around."

"For what reason?" the auburn haired woman replied in a half confused laugh.

The chef made a face. "I don't know. To_ steal_ desserts?"

An eye roll was made by Delia, shaking her head at how crazy the assumption sounded. Perhaps she was feeling protective of them, wanting to give them an equal chance just like the rest of the staff, even though they had been working the least amount of time. Unfortunately, however, she was becoming the only one seeing an ounce of honesty in the newly employed couple.

"Now that you bring this up," Leah soon said, throwing her two cents in, "I didn't want to think anything of it but... A while ago, Celia was asking a lot of questions about the party, wanting all these sorts of specifics... I don't know, it probably didn't mean anything," she shrugged, also consumed with mixed feelings. "Then again, I could have _sworn_ the handkerchief she was wearing the other day around her neck resembled one of our patterned sets of cloth napkins we have stored in the back."

"The paisley one?" Michelle answered, as if reading Leah's mind. "Now that you say that, it did kind of look like that."

_Unbeliveable! _

"Do you two hear yourselves?" Delia lectured, placing her hands on her hips. She might have accepted some of this Michelle, but from her own mother, too?

"Well, dear," Leah tried to reason logically, "you can't tell me you haven't noticed that anything strange has been going on since they've been hired."

"Well, I," she choked, glancing around with anxious chestnut eyes. "Perhaps they can be a bit... I guess..."

Oh, who was she kidding? The evidence and speculation sounded very likely. Leah and Michelle had never had an incident of theft since their ownership of the inn, and all the current employees had been there for several years. Except for Jason and Celia. This couple that was struggling to get by, possibly in more than just money...

The last thing Leah and Michelle wanted was for Delia to feel guilty, knowing her kind and trustworthy heart would easily take a blow if these conjectures turned out to be true.

"Delia, honey," Michelle began warmly, "we know you have a big heart and you don't want to think badly of _anyone_, and your mother and I adore you for that. But those two are kind of off their rockers," she proclaimed bluntly, as if the matter of the fact needed to be addressed.

Letting the words sink in, Delia attempted to see their point of view. She could agree with them in several respects, and yet something inside her could not make her face the idea of them being possible scam artists.

"So they're a little...eccentric. But they seem harmless! Really, they do!" she insisted innocently, baring a meek smile. "We're all just probably stressed. Listen, if it makes you feel any better, this evening we'll have a staff meeting about the dessert theft. As for now, you continue doing what you know best."

That sounded fair enough. They had preparations to finish for the celebration, then once everything was up and ready, they would tackle the equally significant issue of robberies, and see what happened from there. And both women concurred on that.

"That does make me feel a little better," Michelle replied, feeling both genuinely stressed and embarrassed by her rollercoaster of emotions. "And I'm sorry for assuming the worst in them. I know it sounds childish. It just seems like-"

"It's okay," Delia assured, wanting to move past the discussion. "I- get what you're saying. I'll go tell everyone about the meeting."

And so, she promptly left the kitchen to deal with her next order of business and to get some fresh air for her overly frazzled state. Meandering into the dining hall, Delia informed worker after worker, and not too long into her notifying of staff, did she locate one of the very prime suspects on Michelle's list setting silverware on a table.

"Oh, Celia?" the woman's sweet voice called, prompting Jessie to halt in her tracks.

Instantly Jessie spun around to meet Delia, seeing the woman approach her in a princess-seamed floral printed skirt while also wearing a close-fitted blouse, appearing bright as ever. In many respects, Delia truly resembled the ideal vision of a princess or fair maiden, one who looked as if Pidgeys aided her in getting dressed in morning. And it only added to Jessie's crude picture of the woman.

"We'll be having a last minute staff meeting this evening after work," Delia informed. "Would you mind passing that along to your husband? He works so hard; every time I go looking for him he's already off on another task!"

Her compliment left Jessie stunned, not realizing until now how vigilant James had truly been with his work. So on task, it was beginning to make the woman wonder if her partner actually enjoyed the simple modern living they were forced to act in like a play.

"Uh, yes. That's my Jason!" Jessie managed to grin, getting in on the conversation. "He's such a busy Beedrill! At both work and a home! He's always attentive to my needs."

A small smile sprouted from Delia's lips. "Well, you're lucky to have him. Men like that are hard to come by."

If anyone else said it, Jessie wouldn't have given those words a second thought. However, there was a certain glimmer in the twerp's mother's eyes that made Jessie stare at her for a moment. The way she spoke, the way her smile raised with a bittersweet note to her voice... It was all so- genuine. She honestly believed James to be a good person, one with morals, feelings, and with a strong conviction in hard work. As if she had seen that in a man before...

Looking down, Jessie questioned herself. Was she really blinded by all of this? By how- kind and diligent James tried to be? Sure, their missions never amounted to success, but James's attempt at taking care and pride in other things seemed to constantly end with a good result. When they traveled, he would go out of his way to volunteer and wash their dirty uniforms in the river and, while begrudgingly at times, he always shared his food with Jessie- usually letting her have the bigger half. And when they managed to find a scrap of clothing that could work as blanket, he never fussed about her pulling most of it over on her side.

Feeling the heat increase across her cheeks, Jessie hurriedly snapped herself out of her submersed thoughts. Avoiding whatever she was feeling sounded practical compared to confronting it.

At least for now.

"I'll pass it along to him," Jessie eventually said, trying to compose herself. "But uh, what's this meeting exactly about?" she abruptly inquired with a subtle but suspicious eye.

"Um..." For a couple of seconds, Delia paused, as if unsure she should spill the news. Nonetheless, she couldn't bear to think the worse of Celia, wanting to treat all her employees fair with an equal opportunity to clear their names. "We're just having a little trouble with some- dessert thefts," she soon whispered.

_Thefts? _Now Jessie really hoped her flushed face wasn't noticeable. Like so many instances before, she and James had been caught. It was a nice run, though. Weeks went by with them snatching desserts after work hours, hiding in the trash cans in the back until every employee was gone. They had always grabbed the ones shoved in back, hoping the kitchen staff would simply think they had either been thrown out because of how long they had been in there, or that they had indeed been served to customers. She could only be thankful for the fact that Delia didn't think it was them, seeing she was confiding in her about the development. In a lowered voice for that matter. As if it might be someone else.

Jessie blinked then croaked. "Oh. I had no idea."

"We just want the issue resolved," Delia said. "So if you know anything let me know, okay?"

"Of course," she nodded as the woman proceeded to walk away.

Once Delia was out of sight Jessie dashed like a guilty woman and began to scout the entire inn for James. Sadly, she was having no luck in finding him. He wasn't attending to his usual duties that day. She did not see him doing the same monotonous routine of fluffing the pillows on the guest bench, getting the wrinkles out of the curtains, nor was he giving advice on the proper shade the vases should be to compliment the impending flowers that would be settled in them.

But he _was_ coming back from outside, relief rising throughout Jessie's body as she witnessed him stroll through the front door.

"Jam- I mean, Jason!"

No time was given for the blue haired man to react to the distinct hissing of his fake name, for he was already being pulled by the sleeve of his shirt, and forced to spin around.

"Oww! You yanked me!" James yelped, rubbing the bit of skin Jessie grabbed when she snatched his arm.

"Oh, quit whining!" she bickered back, hardly moved by the minor, but sharp pain she caused her partner. "Why can't you ever be near when I need you?"

"I said I was coming back soon," James glowered, now realizing Jessie wasn't listening to him in the first place. "I was just clarifying the plans for-" He paused, looking about for eavesdroppers before whispering: "The_ you know what_. But first I had to find a payphone and-"

"We can talk more about that later," Jessie dismissed, waving a hand. Never mind all the details he gathered about the combat agents from Giovanni's secretary. Details that _needed _to be addressed. Nevertheless, James gave the woman his full attention. "Listen, the twerp's mom just came over and said they're going to have a meeting after work about the _stolen_ desserts."

No more words were required for James to comprehend. "Eeek!" he shrieked, hair standing up on the back of his neck. "You didn't rat us out, did you?"

Jessie gave him an absurd look. "Of course I didn't! But they might be on to us!"

"How did they find out?"

"Besides the desserts obviously being missing, I have no clue!" she shrugged, completely baffled their cover might be blown. "You cleaned up that trail of shortcake crumbs from the last time, didn't you?"

That heist had been a couple of days ago, but James was sure he had swept those crumbs underneath the kitchen sink. Unless one of the sous chefs found the, most likely, moldy evidence... That was a disaster James wanted no part in. From how adamant the head chef had been about keeping out the twerp's ex-rival, James could only imagine what the stout older woman might try to do if she came at him with a ladle!

"Yes. I wouldn't let us get caught that easily!" he replied, hoping his own assurance would calm him.

In return, a growl manifested within Jessie's throat, blue eyes gleaming to the floor as she thought of the best solution. Though the conclusion she came to seemed to be a bitter one by the grinding of her teeth. "As much as I hate to say it, we'll just have to stop," she grumbled, folding her arms over her full chest. "We're only going to be here two more days, anyway."

James hung his head down. "I suppose that'll have to do." _Even though every morsel was sooo good, _he thought to himself, imaging the taste of their last sweet theft. Alas, there were to be no more, and the acceptance of something good being taken away from him was one James had coped with for years. Even if it was pathetic, there was one hopeful note to it all. "Well, on the bright side, we should be able to sneak us some hors d'oeuvres the day of the party," he said, eyes now lingering to the empty trays stationed on one of the side tables.

"Speaking of sneaking," Jessie started slowly, already onto another topic, "did Meowth mention anything about the farm? He's hardly reported anything since we started this whole scheme."

How could James forget? With everything going on, he hadn't bothered to check in with Meowth much when they met up in the evening, nor steer him away from the hopeless ventures at finding love. For all he knew, Meowth was still trying to win that fellow feline's heart, which wouldn't surprise him in the slightest. But Jessie...

The agent bit his lip. "Uh, well, he, um, said he was working on..."

From there he trailed off, words becoming nothing but unintelligible mumbles to Jessie's ears. Leaning in, she cocked a brow, having a hunch that _something _wasn't going as intended. "_James_?" Her tone bore a warning hint, subtly insisting James vanquish the information he was so reluctant to give. "What is Meowth doing instead?"

How in the world was Jessie going to take this?

Nervous green eyes darted from side to side, a gulp gliding down his throat as James started to twiddle his thumbs. "You see, Jessie, he, uh- he thinks he's in love."

This only caused the magenta haired woman's frown lines to deepen. How did she find Meowth's lack of time management? Surprising, no. Fruitless and senseless, yes. The cat's cockamamie scheme at running into his true love was a trope Meowth had tried to follow many times before. After crying to them with a broken heart the first instance he believed he found his soulmate, Jessie would have assumed that Meowth would have learned his lesson eventually. But time after time the cat pulled the same old shtick. And while snatching the Parker's farm and kidnapping the twerp and his mom seemed like a stretch, it would have been nice for Meowth to at least make his time productive!

"I should have assumed something so predictable," she soon sighed. Then, her eyes travelled to the front door. "I guess we have no choice but to go talk to him ourselves. C'mon, James!"

"But it's not our lunch break yet!" James reminded, looking over at the clock pinned on a nearby wall.

This only led to another dramatic arm pulling.

"Yeah, well, we're taking it early!"

Twirling and running towards the exit, James silently wished he wouldn't so easily fall prey to Jessie's clenching and strong hold.


	20. Our Destiny's Unsure

**Author's Note:** Hello again my wonderful readers! I apologize for another long awaited update. I'm happy to announce though that chapter 21 is with my beta reader and I'm currently working on 22. As I've said before, we are now very _very_ close to some big reveals that I'm taking my time making sure everything is thorough and cohesive. Though of course, I will do my best not to make you guys wait too long. ;) As of now, we are down to only 11 chapters left! And again, I greatly appreciate those who have left reviews for the last two chapters. :) I'm so glad to know you guys are enjoying the story thus far!

**DISCLAIMER: **_Pokémon_ belongs to Satoshi Tajiri. My oc's belong to me.

* * *

**Sunlight's Return**

**Chapter 20**

_"Our Destiny's Unsure"_

Meowth froze.

He could have sworn the pile of loose hay behind him had just called out his name. And in an eerily familiar voice, too...

"Psst! Meowth!"

There it was again.

Now the cat was certain he wasn't losing his mind! At a time like this, a distraction was the last thing he needed. The stunning stray female Meowth was only a short distance away, sunbathing on an old tree stump. It was the closest proximity he had been to her since the start of this little love charade. Over the last few weeks, Meowth had tried a dozen ways to earn her attention, only to have his romantic gestures of wild flowers and poems foiled by the Parkers' vast farm animals. He had been smacked in the face with shovels, bonked his noggin into a support beam, kicked in the behind by a Milktank, electrocuted by a prancing Mareep- so much for them being cute and innocent creatures... Needless to say, the cat had suffered a great amount of physical hardships to achieve just an ounce of possible happiness. And he would have ignored the beckoning of his name and pursue his opening if the voice didn't sound like a certain hotheaded diva.

Wincing at the irony of it all, Meowth glanced over his shoulder and discovered a set of two wig-covered heads smothered in strands of hay. He widened his eyes in surprise, dismissing how ridiculous they currently looked. "Hey, what are you twos doin' here?"

"We should be the ones asking the questions!" Jessie snapped, her subtle head gesture urging for Meowth to come over. "James tells me you've been goofing off?"

The last part nearly made the feline's feet slide against the earth and stop in his tracks before coming face to face with his teammates. His sharp teeth clenched together in a nervous, tight hold at Jessie's all-knowing look. "Dis ain't goofin' off!" he hurriedly defended, gesturing towards the slumbering Meowth. "Dis is my chance at gettin' smitten with a real lady!"

Jessie scoffed. "A lady? You realize she's a barn cat, right Meowth?" she reminded bluntly. "Full of fleas and less than pristine quality breeding?"

Meowth's ears dropped and frowned. "Well, that's pretty high rankin' for a street born cat like me!"

"Don't raise your voices too loud!" James warned, jumpy eyes glancing from side to side as he sunk further into the hay. "Someone might hear us!"

Now focusing on the nervous man, the cat waved a careless paw. "Relax, Jimmy. Grampy-twerp's off taking care of the Tauros. Some of dem got loose."

"And did you have anything to do with that?" Jessie remarked sharply.

In return, Meowth chuckled awkwardly. It was bad enough Jessie was convinced he was "goofing off." The last thing the cat wanted was to have one of woman's convoluted theories proven factual. "Hehe, well, uh- Dat's beside da point!" he speedily deflected. "I deserve just as much happiness as anyone else! Besides, it's not like you twos are includin' me in on dis mission."

"That's because you can't be at the inn," the magenta haired woman contradicted. "We can't afford getting caught!"

"Well, how much longer is dis gonna take?"

A groan was dying to be released from Jessie's throat. "That's what we came to tell you! If you'd listen for once instead of daydreaming you would have remembered the party at the inn is in _two_ days."

Meowth gaped. "Gah! Two days?!"

Had time really gone by that fast? All right, so maybe he had become a _little_ sidetracked. In the evening when he wandered back to their base camp, most times he simply tuned out Jessie and James. Usually what they gabbed about wasn't anything of significance. At least, during their regular traveling routines, most discussions consisted of lack of sleep, food, shelter, and rare Pokémon to bring back to the boss. Constant complaining was abundant among the three, and instead of seeping into common woes, Meowth found drifting into a blissful daze more appealing. Though, unintentionally, he had neglected listening in on important details.

"That's right," Jessie sneered, acting like a mother scolding her child. "And you haven't made any progress with the farm, have you?"

"It's not like we really could snatch the farm too, Jessie," James tried to reason, seeing arguing wasn't getting them anywhere.

"Still, Meowth could have gotten some dirt. Like where the twerp's grandparents might be after the party? So we know they won't be around when the SWAT team kidnaps the twerp and his mom!"

That was a good point. A very necessary detail that would not only please Giovanni for their thinking ahead, but would also aid in the execution of the assignment.

"I'm not a mind reader, Jess," Meowth shot back, growing irritable. "How was I supposed to know dat's what you wanted?"

Finally having his fill of the back and forth blame-game, James moaned. "Oh, let's just face it! We've all been too caught up in the atmosphere here to really think about the plan!"

Appearing puzzled, Jessie glanced to her partner. "What are you saying?"

"He means this place is a toxic oasis," Meowth answered for him.

"What?" she balked.

Pausing, Jessie considered Meowth's words. It was true in that the quaint, homey town of Pallet was comparable to something out of an idealist close-knit community. Small businesses were thriving, the town was bright and bustling with active civilians, families were raising their children there, and tourists from all over the region came just to see the town's natural beauty- or, more likely, the famous Oak Laboratory. Pallet was quiet, small, and with the people's eccentric personalities, easy to blend into for the three grunts. With all its pluses, Pallet Town was an alluring place to settle down and get sucked into.

But not for Team Rocket agents.

Blinking out of mild shock, Jessie's narrowed her eyes. "Don't tell me you're adjusting to this, too, James!"

He jumped a little as the hissing in her throat. "I...I mean, being in Pallet- it's not so bad," he whimpered, looking away.

"So neither of you want to leave this dump and fulfill our mission?" she continued in amazement as she glanced between the two.

"It's not dat we don't, Jessie," Meowth started to explain, "but dis here is practically paradise!"

"It's kind of nice considering what we're normally used to," James threw in meekly.

"So you two are becoming goody two-shoe civilians, then!" the magenta haired woman concluded almost manically.

Being called something as low as a "goody two-shoe" was like a stabbing of a criminal's pride and Meowth didn't take it well. "Do you have ta put it dat way?" the feline grumbled.

James didn't like Jessie's lecturing much either. It felt as if he and his furry companion were being condemned, as if they were betrayers to the organization that had given them jobs with minimal benefits despite their constant streak of blundering failures. And maybe it genuinely seemed like they were bailing on "operation kidnap" for an out of reach and idealistic life with average civilians. It's not as if they all hadn't savored being the heroes before in past instances. In this case, though, James supposed being handed such a high-ranking mission had his female comrade on edge, all the more determined and driven to prove that they as a team were capable of accomplishing the task without a single slip up.

Still, none of that could overshadow the warm fluttering James had felt in his heart as of late.

"All we're saying is that for once…things are going smoothly," the blue haired man began to softly elucidate. "Meowth thinks he's found love, you and I get free lunches at the inn, we have a good boss, and I've kind of grown attached to my job."

"And that's all because of this mission," Jessie reminded sternly. She couldn't understand why they were having trouble accepting the obvious. "We're doing everything right so the plan goes accordingly. It's just part of the procedure."

"Look at it the way you want to, Jessie, but Jimmy does make a point," Meowth said, folding his short arms over his fur-ridden chest.

In the end, it had become two against one. Dashing her focus back and forth between her male companions once again, Jessie knew she was cornered. There was a_ tiny_ part of her that saw the appeal in Pallet's charm. Having access to well-made desserts was on her personal list of top five benefits, and with the looks James and Meowth kept giving her she had no choice but admit some sort of a mutual agreement.

"Oh- Okay, fine!" she eventually blurted, feeling her cheeks redden. "So having a boss who doesn't yell at you and calls you a complete failure is a nice perk. But remember, this is all just a scheme. We're tricking the twerp's mom-"

"I_ know_, Jessie," James cut in. That was all he heard about as of late. "It's just..." He was going to regret announcing this to the fiery woman. "I'm not sure if I like it. She's been so nice to us. She went out of her way to give us jobs and she's always thanking us for the work we do, and telling us that we're good employees."

So Glinda the Good crossed with Princess Aurora with the Donna Reed apron had finally gotten to him. Never did Jessie think someone as innocent as her could do a number on someone. Then again, this was in a _positive_ way. Delia Ketchum was one of those people one could easily warm up to. Her friendly demeanor and sweet expression were inviting for one to feel comfortable and secure around. Practically requesting for them to have jobs after that sap story was an obvious enough indicator of her character, which would explain why James was feeling so guilty for taking advantage of her kindness. But yet again, Jessie forced herself to see their actions as nothing but a reality of their conniving jobs.

"James, keep things in perspective! We don't owe the twerp's mother anything!" she persisted firmly, her irritation showing through as she angrily blew a piece of straw from her eye.

"But don't you feel a little bad for lying to her like this?" James boldly asked, knowing his own conscious was eating at him.

Surprising both James and herself, Jessie fell silent and stared with wide eyes. For a long while, she had forgotten what "feeling bad" felt like. To truly lie to someone, and in the end, see the result of their harmful deeds after they had been so incredibly kind...

But was it worth the cost of the identity she built?

"I- I well... That's not important!" Jessie quickly insisted, hiding her own insecurities. "What's important is for us to come through for the boss. We're Team Rocket agents, not lowly common folk. Remember, we _don't_ like the twerp. And we're not about to side with him and his little family!"

Just because they were grunts to Giovanni didn't mean the trio didn't have feelings. Were _humans_ for that matter. Deep down, James knew this was just Jessie trying to deflect and keep her "evil ego" afloat. On most occasions he would chime in and dismiss such sudden and confusing emotions. However, he didn't want to this time. Something inside the man was telling him not to ignore what he was experiencing. What _could_ bring him joy.

Alas, there was no getting through to Jessie. Even James's pathetic attempt at a squeak was terminated swiftly by her tactful change in topic. "Now," she started, "run down the details to me and Meowth."

* * *

Was she taking a chance on something full of nothing but empty hope? Because she should have done this years ago?

Or was this hopeful, upcoming revelation going to make a difference?

_Mom..._

At that moment, she couldn't decide. Actually, she hadn't been indecisive since telling Sam. It all seemed well and good to plunge in and take a chance. At last, declaring her deepest yet more vulnerable wants out loud. Searching for Jay so she could at least receive closure, perhaps bring him back home to work things out- whatever that definition may be...

_Mom..._

There was a heavy cloud of doubt looming over her head, though. With how strained their relationship had become, after how they left on such muddled and heart wrenching terms, she couldn't tell herself everything would be right as rain, as if the use of a magic-wand could fix all the damage. Even_ if_ she got the opportunity to speak with him.

_Mom..._

But the thought of seeing him again- to close her eyes and imagine those icy blue eyes full of passion, yet distance- How much he had aged, how he changed both physically and emotionally... The picture in her mind was fuzzy and could not stay in focus, and even hearing his baritone voice once more was difficult, for the sound of someone with a tenor tone kept overriding its haunting baritone voice. And it was calling out to her...

"_Mom_?"

The sharp and increase in the voice of her son finally broke Delia out of her trance at the dinner table. As she looked up, concerned and confused chocolate eyes met her wide and surprised chestnut ones. That face he was making, the tension in his eyebrows and turned down lips- Ash almost looked like him for a moment. Shaking her head just faintly, Delia tried to refocus her attention and press a small smile to her lips.

"Yes, Ash?" she said.

Ash cocked an eyebrow, his voice brewing with worry. "Are you okay? You seem kinda spacey."

Glancing down, Delia suddenly realized how she had hardly touched her evening meal. All her fork had done was play with the creamy casserole on and off, and then stabbed a few bits of her colorful salad, small portions barely meeting her mouth. She wasn't all that hungry. Her stress levels had been through the roof the last few days, worried about the inn and all its preparations and, more obviously, if and what Prof. Oak uncovered about her estranged husband. A part of Delia was dying to know right then and there, but her collected side kept insisting for her to be patient. For rushing could bring only bad news during a time she should be filled with anticipative joy and excitement...

"Oh, I'm fine, honey," the mother eventually assured, masking her worries behind another smile. "Just a little sleepy from all the work at the inn, that's all."

Thankfully for Delia, Ash nodded as if he understood. However, she couldn't help but notice how hesitant and slow his response was, as if not fully convinced of her quietness and once intense stare into her brightly colored plate. If Delia didn't want further persistence on her son's innocent investigation, she would have to change the topic and kick her mind back into its normal train of thought.

"So, um," she started stabbing her fork into what felt like her first real helping of food, "how was your trip to Grandma and Grandpa's today? I saw you brought home some full boxes. You must have found some things of your dad's."

Now it was his turn to feel caught off guard.

That late morning sure had been a strange one. At first, everything seemed normal to him in the Senior Ketchum household. But the thought of that troublesome picture couldn't leave Ash's boggled mind. As of now, he couldn't ask Delia anything about it. It took her a long time to even warm up to the subject of Jay much less identify some unknown boy in a photo from his dad's old bedroom. For all Ash knew, Delia had no clue. That or she did know _something_ and wouldn't feel inclined to discuss it. Either way, he wasn't ready nor comfortable talking about. The boy's face alone bared such an uncanny resemblance to the Ketchum family; all it did was leave Ash stumped. He_ had_ to be one of them. A cousin perhaps? The last time Ash ever asked about his dad's family, Delia had told him of Emily having an older brother and Richard being an only child. Emily's brother had two sons, but they were much older than Jay, which would rule out that explanation.

Besides, this boy had to be from Richard's side. He looked nothing comparable to Emily. While the shades were different, his and Jay's eyes were so similar and just by their smiles alone it felt as if they were close...

Almost in a- brotherly respect.

So if that was the case, why was the photo turned down in Jay's drawer, collecting dust?

Snapping back to reality, Ash attempted to forget the strange feeling riding in his gut. "Oh yeah, sorry I didn't bring it up. But uh, everything went okay. Grandpa was fine... I found a lot of books of Dad's that I wanted."

"Those books looked really valuable, Mrs. Ketchum," Brock jumped in, also feeling the tension in the air and deciding to ease it. "Your husband seems like a really educated guy."

This caused Delia to harden for a moment. "Yes." She stared back into her plate. "Yes, he is."

Seeing this, Brock winced to himself. Okay, so_ maybe_ that wasn't as good of an icebreaker as he would have hoped. At the moment, the young Pokémon doctor-in-training couldn't tell if the woman was more upset or simply somber. Nonetheless, it changed her expression completely, leaving Brock to regret his words, and only furthered to worry him about the upcoming reveal. Soon enough, Delia was going to hear about Jay from Prof. Oak and she was going to have to soak in all the unpleasant details of his abrupt decision to leave and travel. Brock could only imagine how she'd take it if this little mention caused her to sink to such a dull state.

"And Grandma was good," Ash soon elucidated in a neutral tone, taking note of his mother's darkening eyes. "She wasn't yelling at any maids, so that made things less...tense. Oh, but Madeline, you know the maid we saw last time? She was fired."

"That doesn't surprise me," Delia snorted softly.

Ash chuckled awkwardly at this. "Yeah. But everything was okay. Brock and Grandma were actually talking for a good long while-" Abruptly, this caused the trainer to pause and soon shoot his friend a look of question. "What were you guys talking about, anyway?"

_Ah, nothin'. Just about you and Misty and your possible relationship and this strange need for her to meddle right in the middle of it. _Yeah. Like he was about to let _that_ Meowth out of the bag. The peculiar gaze upon Ash's face caused Brock to squirm momentarily, biting hard on his tongue as he tried to work himself out of the situation._ C'mon Brock! _he told himself urgently._ Think! There must have been something you and Senior Mrs. Ketchum talked about other than Ash's love life..._

"Uh... Marzipan."

"Marzipan?" Delia repeated slowly and clearly puzzled.

The young man bit harder on his tongue. _Smooth, Brocko! Smooth!_

"Uh-huh," he started carefully. "Ash's grandma had brought back some marzipan from her trip to Johto and she gave me a piece to try... I think she said nuns made it. She has some for you guys. Guess she just forgot to give it to us when we left." Recalling the conversation, Brock was pretty sure that's what she said...or was it a band of hippies? No. If he was talking about Emily, nuns seemed more realistic. Nevertheless, he remembered her saying something of the candy's origin when he finally escaped her clutches to go be a part of the_ reason_ why he dropped by with his friend.

At the mention of the sugary treat, Ash made a less than pleasant face. "Thanks for the warning," he mumbled. "That stuff's gross."

"_Ash_," Delia admonished, passing him the bowl of salad, subtly encouraging him to heavily load the pathetic cluster of greens he already had on his plate. "It was very kind of your grandma to remember us and bring us something back."

If Brock was confident about anything in this conversation, he was positive Delia wouldn't be so thankful to Emily if she had only known what her mother-in-law was prying for earlier.

Begrudgingly, Ash took the chilled bowl from his mother and did as silently instructed. "So she held you hostage to talk only about marzipan?" he went on asking Brock, completely addled by the topic alone.

"N-no," the Pokémon doctor-in-the-making stumbled, endlessly keeping himself centered. "We talked about my studies and she talked about work since they relate in a lot of respects- and that was pretty much it. How about you and your grandpa?" Brock was trying to think of a not-so-obvious route to deflect.

And ironically, it was Ash's turn to feel the pressure. Not that he and his grandfather's conversation was upsetting or even unbearable. The dark haired teenager usually liked to speak with Richard, feeling relaxed around him. But the solemn flicker in his eyes and that damn picture...

"Um- nothin' much," Ash replied, his voice casual. "Just about work. You know, boring stuff about insurance."

Brock nodded steadily. "I see."

After this point, the conversing died down back into silence. There wasn't much anyone could say about insurance.

And frankly, no one really felt like talking.

As plates were collected at the end of meal time, Ash decided to retire for the evening and take a shower. Seeing he cleared his spot at the table, Delia didn't argue, and allowed him to go clean up for the night. As for her and Brock, he aided the woman in rinsing and loading the dishes into the dishwasher. She was glad to have an extra set of hands around the house, seeing Mr. Mime was constantly over at her parents' home, picking up leftover chores they were unable to attend to. And like old times, Brock never minded. He actually volunteered on the spot and insisted for Ash to go upstairs to shower before Delia insisted for her own son to lend a hand.

It wasn't obvious to anyone in the household, but Brock had purposely shooed Ash away. All day he had been thinking about that troublesome conversation with Emily. Considering how to approach the subject, if he should even say _anything_ to anyone. Already, Brock was carrying a much heavier burden of Jay's whereabouts, and keeping any more from the Ketchum family felt like an act of betrayal, his strained emotions dramatic or not.

As odd as Emily's personal questioning of her grandson's love life was, it wouldn't affect anyone in a real negative light- would it? Continually, Brock tried to convince himself the discussion was _not_ a big deal. That she was just being a busybody who wanted to dismiss problems in her own life and focus on someone else's. But he knew the Senior Mrs. Ketchum well enough to know nothing she said went without action. From his own observations, the medical student always recognized some underlying tension between Delia and Emily due to this. That they didn't always agree. Or there was some personal baggage from the past, most likely deriving from Jay. Whatever went on between the two women, it was evident they weren't in a warm fuzzy relationship, similar to the stereotypical image of what a daughter and mother-in-law shared. And that Delia probably wouldn't like the idea of Emily talking so openly with Ash's _friend_ about _his_ assumed affections for a girl...

Like many mothers, Brock couldn't see Delia jumping for joy over this concept of matchmaking by the likes of her mother-in-law. One of the last things she most likely did not want to hear about was her "little boy's" supposed crush, true or not. But that was just a hunch. Brock knew how much Delia liked Misty; heck, loved her like she was her own daughter. Similar to how she treated Brock like a son. The thought of Ash maturing, the urges and wants setting in of having a girlfriend, though... That was up for debate on how Delia would handle it. It was to be expected from a boy his age; still, Brock didn't want Delia to assume this was all coming from Ash and not that this was Emily playing another round of manipulation.

All he could do was choose his words carefully. If he felt inclined to tell her...

Towards the end of the loading of the dirty dishes, not informing Delia just didn't seem right to Brock. Scrounging up the courage, the young man tried to think how he'd word his announcement, and fast, before Ash came back down. It was already strange informing the mother of the news, much less his teenage friend who was going through the difficult and embarrassing stage of hormones and bouts of emotions...and who probably wouldn't take it well.

That Brock was sure about.

Handing Delia another fully rinsed plate, he swallowed a big gulp down his throat. "Hey, Mrs. K?" he called out quietly. "Could I talk to you 'bout something?" He had his ears tuned in cautiously to the water running upstairs.

Bending to load in the plate, Delia smiled and nodded. "Of course, Brock."

She was distracted by the task, leaving Brock to move his mouth about awkwardly. C_'mon, Brock! Just focus! Be your normal grounded self! Mrs. K will understand if you approach this like an adult. _Taking his inward advice, he proceeded. "Listen, I don't know how to say this, but, uh...Ash's grandma wasn't just talking about marzipan with me."

Auburn eyebrows lowered, immediately gazing at him. "What do you mean?" she asked, drying her partially wet hands with a hand towel.

Brock scratched his chin. "Well, she was kind of asking me some things about...Ash."

Delia made a face. "What things?"

Her hands were now on her hips and she was making that "mom face" he knew all too well from his own mother...and Brock would give to Ash on occasion. This was definitely not a good sign.

"Well, just about..." _Oh God, PLEASE don't make me regret this!_ "...about him and Misty." As nervous as he was on the inside, Brock didn't show it outwardly through drips of sweat or a twitching mouth. He kept his face even and pristine with seriousness, firm enough to make Delia take notice and listen with wide eyes and a slightly agape mouth of surprise.

"She was asking me questions about them- possibly...getting together." Then he panicked once seeing the shock fully claim Delia's face and her overall aghast silence. "With all due respect to your mother-in-law, Mrs. Ketchum, I just felt really uncomfortable about it, and I thought, as Ash's mom, you have the right to know. I mean, for all I know Ash said something about Misty to his grandma and I'm just out of the loop-"

"No, no, Brock," Delia said, waving a hand gently. "You haven't misunderstood anything at all."

Between his speedy voice and her astounded expression, she was still trying to take in all of this herself. She could believe Emily would continue to pursue the subject of Misty, but she didn't think the woman would stoop so low to con information out of Brock! Flabbergasted, Delia struggled to wrap her mind around it all. Unbelievable. Completely unbelievable! Now she felt as if she should have taken time off work to go there with them, to monitor Emily. To spare poor Brock...

Breathing out a deep exhale, Delia shot the young man a pair of apologetic eyes. "I am so sorry she asked you those things, Brock. She shouldn't have done that to you. It's beyond inappropriate..." For another time, Delia shook her head. As much as she'd hate asking this upcoming question, she felt it was her responsibility to do so as a mature mother and adult. "Could you, if you wouldn't mind, tell me what she said exactly?"

"It was pretty obvious that she was wondering if they still keep in touch and if Misty had a boyfriend... That if it's possible for Ash and Misty become a- couple. If they liked each other, I guess." It was all so hard for him to say aloud when he couldn't decipher the disconcerted array of expressions that crossed Delia's face.

"I told her I didn't know. I just didn't like talking about them like that. And honestly, it isn't any of my business whether they do or don't."

"It's none of hers, either," Delia dared to snap. Not at Brock of course, but at the image of a grinning, sneaky Emily in her mind. She tried to solider through the raging upheaval soaring through her, breathed in a deep breath, and gave Brock a reassuring, faint smile. "Don't worry about this, dear. I'll handle it."

Brock cocked an eyebrow. "You sure? If it brings you any comfort, Mrs. Ketchum, in her own way I think Ash's grandma had good intentions. She said she just wanted someone- good for Ash. Really, I don't think she meant anything by it," he insisted evenly, trying to remedy the situation. "She probably just likes Misty and thought they'd be good together or something. And I would hate to start a problem that's not there-"

"You haven't, Brock. This already was a problem," Delia announced, exasperation riding in her vocal cords. "And between you and me, this isn't the first instance I've had to have a few words with my mother-in-law."

"Oh." That didn't seem unlikely. Still, he couldn't imagine the constant ludicrous battles Delia had to endure. "I'm really sorry to hear that," Brock replied earnestly.

He was humble to know Delia thought well of him enough to confide in him, but he didn't want to bog her down to the point where his concerns were possibly being blown out of portion. "But Mrs. Ketchum, I don't want to put you in an awkward position, and I _certainly_ don't want to be on Ash's grandma's bad side-"

"Please don't fret, Brock," the auburn haired woman stressed. "I'll take care of it. I- I just can't say I'm sorry enough that you were caught in the middle of this. Honestly, I don't know what possesses her to do these sorts of things sometimes."

And Delia truly met it. Both her apology and her continual befuddlement towards Emily's actions. This was already a conversation Emily tried to broach earlier, one she knew through just facial communication that Delia did not approve of. To some, this petty talk wouldn't seem like a big deal. But Delia knew with her mother-in-law, things would get out of hand eventually. That and the fact that none of this was her concern nor was there this dire need to bring up Ash's love life. No. This was just Emily up to her old yet subtle deceitful tricks again. She had done this as far back as Delia could remember, only this time these charades involved her grandson and not her actual children.

"Like I said, though, I think she thought she was being helpful," Brock persisted, hoping that this aspect would sound positive in its own right regarding Emily's intentions. "She said she just wants Ash to have positive experiences, to be with people who are on the same level as him."

Unfortunately, Delia could see those intentions as anything _but_ that.

Making her own assumptions, the mother masked the anger viciously blooming in her mind. "Sounds like something she'd say."

* * *

As Misty watched the sunset, she supposed the secluded sector of the woods wasn't as spooky as she deemed them to be.

It was almost serene, the glistening of the tree branches capturing the fading glimmers of the sun and soon the bright twinkling of the stars and moon. She kept herself silently entranced by the beautiful blend of colors in the sky, watching Azurill and Furret play together as she was crouched beside Molly while the young girl speedily dispersed her equipment. Besides being innocently chatty and easily distracted, Molly proved herself to be a quick-witted girl with a passion for technology. For being a ball of energy and with her thoughts often scattered, she was clearly a force to be reckoned with in regards to planning in advance. Half of the equipment that was strewn about Misty couldn't even identify. If one thing was clear, Spencer Hale was one attentive and protective father for providing his daughter with such an ample array of technological security.

"These will alert us if anyone crosses into our area," Molly began to explain, putting the device on a certain setting. "I used them a lot when I was travelling back home, and when I was trying to catch a ghost type. That's actually how I caught my Misdreavus."

"Impressive," Misty replied, amazed by the girl and her tactful skills. "So it'll set off like an alarm?"

"Yeah," the young girl said, concentrated on the task at hand. "It's kind of loud, but at least we'll be alerted if Team Rocket comes by." She paused for a moment, looking off into the dark, dreary tree line. Then, her eyebrows lowered. "I just hope they don't."

Sea-green eyes were fixated on the same spot. As deeply as the branches shook, so did her bones. Misty had gotten severe chills every time the thought of that knife nearly being pressed to her throat replayed in her mind. Again and again- just thinking how close that had been. Too close for comfort. The redhead wanted to think she was safe with her companions and Pokémon. That with all their brute strength and power of their Pokémon combined there was no chance of any Team Rocket agent laying a finger on _any_ of them.

That she could go to sleep tonight and feel safe. And not dream of that.

Eventually, Misty swallowed. "You and me both."

As Molly continued to work away, standing guard a few feet behind the girls was Drake. He was preoccupied scouting the area, insisting on watching over them until they were finished setting up the security system around the perimeter of the house. With night encroaching, Drake didn't feel comfortable leaving the pair out on their own. There was no telling what new tricks Team Rocket had up their sleeve, and with the way everything was going...it was best he kept his thoughts in order with a focused and cautious mind.

Especially with Jay behaving so irrationally.

Now thinking about his quiet brother, he gleamed over his shoulder to find Jay had sneaked off back into the house by the soft clicking of the door. A heavy breath was exhaled through his nostrils, and so, the islander stared forward once again. Just once, even if it was for a split-second, Drake wished he could read his brother's mind or crack that pristine poker face. Or better yet, Jay would open up to him. That seemed highly unlikely, though. Jay would come around on his own if he felt like it, which could be a long and vague length of time. But time wasn't on their side. And simply brooding about wasn't going to solve anything.

Neither was being overly suspicious of Kelly.

Drake had to admit, he had his reservations about the mysterious man, too. The fact that they hardly knew him and yet he was somehow aware of their situation was a justifiable reason to be cautious. By how welcoming he had been and what information he had provided, Drake was starting to think that Kelly was indeed candid. Though it would take a lot more evidence before the likes of Jay would trust him. He was very much a wounded soul, being forced to constantly face the grim reality of the world, endlessly, without choice, separating himself from anything that once made him feel happy.

Anyone that made him happy.

Inside the house, Jay was quietly looking about. For what, he knew, but had no desire to announce his abrupt search to Drake. After his near strangling of Kelly, he felt the humility to go and apologize to the man. Cautious he still was of the new presence in the group, Jay was mature enough to collect himself and admit his flighty and careless actions. Though a small part of him still felt his rash temper was warranted to a degree. If he wanted a straightforward answer regarding, well, anything that would be beneficial to him, he would have to surrender himself to give Kelly a fair shot. Openly, he invited them into his home and allowed them to stay overnight. A bedroom was given for the men and one to the girls, food had been prepared for them, and a promise of a legendary coming in the midst was solid enough evidence to make most of the group feel secure with the hospitable host. That no bad intentions were sneakily lurking around while they let their guards down.

It was easier said than done for Jay, however. Endlessly fighting with himself over whether to take the risk or not. Besides Prof. Oak's minimal uncovering, this man could have been holding the key to all of the questions Jay had been desperately asking for years. It was plausible that Kelly could be the one. That this miracle of a run-in with him was meant to be.

At any rate, as careful as he was around Kelly, Jay preferred to be speaking with him over Sam.

In the living room, an entryway connected Jay to a very short hall. All that consisted was a closed door at the end of it and a painting hanging at the start of the hall. The piece was abstract at first to Jay, his fingers running over the canvas to discover it was painted with oils. While it wasn't obvious at first glimpse, to the master it seemed like there was a symbolic message of some sort. That fire, water, and lightning were somehow destructive yet peaceful...

The sound of something shifting in the closed off room caught Jay's attention and soon provoked him to move along. His hand gently dragged against the art piece as he wandered to the door, coiling up a fist and from there knocking on the solid wooden surface.

"Come in."

Hesitantly, Jay twisted the doorknob and peeked in. "Am I disturbing you?"

Inside, Kelly glanced up from a book he was submersed in, smiling as if he didn't mind the random intrusion. "Not at all."

With a firm shut, the older man closed the worn book, placed it on his table, and rose from his wooden chair to give Jay his full attention. Like the rest of the house, the room was sparse, with an overloaded bookshelf about the only dominate display. Staring briefly at the vast collection, the master's nostrils filled with the smell only old books could give off, the lined up objects full of knowledge, reminding Jay of his own assortment- the one he used to skim through every chance he got.

For a moment, Jay remained silent, eyes dancing around until they were comfortable enough to settle on the peculiar man. "Listen, Kelly-"

"Please, call me Donald," the old man gently cut off.

Jay ignored his suggestion of lack of formalities and closed his eyes. "I'm- sorry about earlier," he breathed out, at the same time revealing his gaze again. "I lost my temper. I lost myself and I-"

"You're paranoid," Kelly concluded for him.

Jay's eyes darkened. "More than less. After having to be so suspicious of everyone for so long...I don't trust everything I hear easily. I suppose you could say my innocence has been...stripped."

Admitting this all out loud- it was both relieving and saddening. Had so much time passed that a huge part of him had truly hardened? That he felt like a completely different person each time he caught his reflection in a clear river? After a while, putting a wall between people felt natural and expected, yet Jay grasped the hate he had for it. Naturally suspicious of something abnormal was one thing, but to incessantly worry that the people around one might really be someone ready to put a sack over one's head, force one's head into a stream to make one talk; or to hold a loaded gun to one's chest, leaving the victim no choice but to play the cruel game of fight for one's life even it went against common morals?

Kelly nodded steadily. "And so your judgement has changed as well," he presumed thoughtfully. "No one can blame you. I can imagine you have faced many hardships most could not endure. You're an impeccable man, Jayce."

Inside, Jay felt his heart ache at the reminder of his traumatic travels, though on the outside he only cocked a sharp brow. "I thought I was impetuous?" the master retorted snidely.

"Jayce," Kelly smiled dryly, "I can assure you with all my soul that I am someone to trust. I am your ally, not your enemy. And you will see soon enough why it was so vital for us to meet."

There he went again talking in some cryptic and foreboding code.

Resisting the urge to groan out of frustration, Jay tried his best to stay even, seeing the conversation was going_ somewhere_. "But how can I trust you when I don't even know how you know me?" he justified, his voice rising slightly. "My situation, for that matter?"

"That's not important," Kelly dismissed as coolly as he seemed.

Some would beg to differ._ Immensely._

"What's important is for you to understand what's at stake and what I can offer to you for guidance."

"And how might you do that?"

"I don't have all the answers you seek," he began bluntly, which tore apart Jay's wishful thinking. "I do, however, know what's at stake, and only it can tell you what might be the end result of this impending doom we are all sensing."

His eyes would have lit up at "however," but instead the icy blue tint became muddled at the lack of instant understanding. "_It_?" Jay echoed sharply.

In return, Kelly just gave a subtle yet soothing smile. "You should get some rest. You'll need it."

* * *

She kept telling herself not to touch the phone.

To distract herself, Delia had taken a shower, rubbed her arms and legs full of sweet pea lotion, and proceeded to submerse her imagination in her nearly finished romance novel. The dramatized and picturesque passion of Farah and Willard's love saga, sadly, could not work its magic as it once did. The current main focus in the novel did nothing to soothe her nerves, but instead heightened them. The supposed run-in with Willard's controlling long lost great-aunt, who interrupted them before Farah had a chance to tell him she was pregnant, reminded Delia too much of the woman she was trying so hard not to call.

Delia's aggravation with Emily was nothing compared to the overdone and unrealistic spectacle in the novel, but still, such a character as that woman was too similar to her mother-in-law in demeanor and action. The character, Cwenhild, was a wealthy old bitty, a duchess of Kanto who was searching for her husband's sister's son, the long lost heir, to be the next duke due to her husband's death. Yes. It was extremely contrived and the perfect excuse for conflict between the dashing, mysterious Willard and the now pregnant common girl Farah. And here was her big entrance, claiming to be related by blood, and from there, taking him away from his life as a free mercenary roaming about. Barging in without hesitation, her description of standing with her nose up in the air, her commanding tone, and her words full of bites of sarcasm-

Her shrewd use of chicanery to manipulate Willard.

_"Farah isn't right for you, dear. Can't you see? She'll hold you down. And she certainly wouldn't make a fitting wife in a setting full of vigorous politics, let alone a chambermaid! In your innate setting, there are bountiful amounts of eligible women that will suite your fancy. Let her stay where she belongs and feels at peace. If you care about her at all, you wouldn't dare wish to take her away from the only simple life she's ever known, now would you?"_

Now Delia _really_ had to put the book down. Willingly, she quit reading the outrageous dialogue and slammed it shut. She then tossed it lightly beside her, proceeding to fold her arms over her chest and huff. Fingers tapped against her upper arm, her arms huddled close to her chest as she kept glancing to the phone as if its presence was mocking her. Calling Emily would not end with a resolution. They'd be talking in circles, and Delia doubted her mother-in-law would own up to any of it, or at least see the wrongs of her transgression.

Yet regardless if Delia was in the right frame of mind or not, sitting by and acting as if Emily's actions hadn't crossed a line without any consequences wasn't settling well with her, either. She was torn, constantly thinking back and forth between what Brock had told her and then to the night weeks ago of Emily's pressing regarding Misty. She couldn't propel herself to overlook Emily's inappropriate choices and see the "goodness" of her intentions. Maybe it was all deriving from past animosity. That she had already tried this shtick and was now seeking other sources for information just because Delia refused to comply.

The irritation guided Delia in her decision. Unlike the character Farah in the novel she was reading, she was going to take action.

Once fiercely punching in the number to the desired residence, Delia pressed the receiver to her ear and listened to the repeating rings shrill, until a feminine voice came over the line.

"Hello?"

"You know the stunts you pull amaze me, but I think this one is definitely in the top ten."

"Delia, what on earth are you going on about?" Emily asked, already sounding exasperated by the sharp note in the woman's vocal cords. "Richard and I were just heading to bed-"

"Well, it'll have to wait," Delia insisted firmly.

Emily crinkled her forehead. "There's nothing to wait for."

Now she was confused. "What?"

"Delia, what do you want?" the older woman cut to the chase. She wasn't about to explain the supposed innuendo she thought her daughter-in-law was originally insinuating. "And don't let this conversation carry on too long, or else I won't be able to go into a restful REM cycle at a decent hour."

"How could you pine Brock for information and think that it was okay?" the mother bluntly declared, seeing she didn't want to make this unpleasant conversation an eternity either.

It was short, but Emily paused. "I don't know what you're talking about."

Typical. Expected.

A shake of the head followed. "Fine," Delia said flatly, "pretend not to. And don't be mad at Brock for telling me because _you_ made him feel uncomfortable. Because it was _completely_ inappropriate."

"He didn't seem to be complaining when we talked earlier," Emily challenged briskly, as if not at all perturbed by the young woman's riled state.

It was just earlier that day she spoke with Brock, and she had told him all of this speculation_ stayed_ between them. Though she should have predicted for him to say something to Delia. Pursing her lips, Emily was beginning to wonder if this was just her daughter-in-law "overacting" and making this a "bigger fuss" than need be. After all, she had just asked some simple questions. No marriage agreements were being made or something as absurd as that.

"Why would you ask about Misty like that, Emily?" the auburn haired woman went on questioning, desperate for a genuine answer. "Why would you force something so- crazy!"

That seemed to do it. Enraged, Emily narrowed her brows and spat back. "It is not crazy! What I'm doing is a service to Ash. I don't see you taking action so I had to step in."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"Delia, are you blind?" Emily moaned. "The boy is sixteen years old and he's never had a proper intimate relationship with the opposite sex. I'm just trying to start the process, seeing you're not taking any initiative."

"Well, what would you like me to do?" Delia fried back, her indignation increasing. "Start a courtship or mating ritual?"

"Well, with your extensive knowledge of animal-husbandry I imagine that would be a cinch for you."

This was getting nowhere with the start of sarcastic jabs.

All of Emily's reasoning was comparable to what she tried to force Jay's once teenage self into. These "social gatherings" consisting of Emily and Richard's colleagues only to have their daughters of the same age as Jay tag along for kicks. Those parties were the equivalent of a mating ritual to Jay, his stealthy feet and clever mind always finding a way to flee the house and those girls he wanted nothing to do with. The tree outside his window was his usual escape route, or sneaking into the backyard, jumping over the stone-constructed border and into a neighbor's yard before racing down the hill to the main part of Pallet. He was a hard one to contain. A free spirit, half savage in a sense of never conforming to his mother's desires.

Now here she was once again, only this time Ash was her main focus. The son of the son she could not control. The son of the son who refused to submit to any form of her lifestyle.

The son of the son who went and found the person he wanted. And got her.

"Emily," Delia pressed as calmly as she could, "Ash is young. He has plenty of time. I'm not about to force him to be in a relationship just because you want him to be in one. He needs time to figure out who he is himself, see who he's interested in. If Ash likes Misty, he'll tell her in his own time."

"Well, I don't know if his time will be as slow as hers," the older woman rebutted.

Besides, it's not as if Delia took her sweet time with Jay.

To Emily, it felt as if she had been hit with a ton of bricks at the announcement of their spur-of-the-moment marriage. An impact that she never fully recovered from. She didn't appreciate being lied to, Jay going behind her back and settling for someone he had only known for about three years. That wasn't plenty of time to Emily, and the farm girl wasn't someone she would have considered as an eligible first girlfriend, let alone a wife. But that was all in the past now. And perhaps a part of Emily had grown attached to Delia, had accepted her to a degree once seeing how dedicated of a mother she was, how she was the only one in the world who had made Jay truly content...

Until he left and altered everything around his family.

"Can't you just stay out of this?" Delia asked frankly. "Don't you see if you push this onto him, you'll make Ash upset to the point where he won't want you involved?"

"Oh, like Jayce?"

Immediately, Delia could hear the sting in Emily's voice.

"This isn't about Jay," she speedily extinguished.

"And I know this isn't about Ash needing to 'find himself,' either," her mother-in-law rebutted, catching the woman by surprise. "Delia, I know very well you're just holding on to a time when Ash was younger and needed help tying his shoes and wanted star-shaped peanut butter and jelly sandwiches or any other ridiculous thing like that. But now he's older. _Much_ older, enough to where he can tie his own shoes and make his own sandwich. And yes, as childish as it is, he probably still likes to have you make that for him on occasion, but whether you like it or not, everything else has changed. He's growing up, and Richard and I have every right to have some kind of influence on our own grandson!"

It had been a long time since they had argued; hell, Delia couldn't even recall she and Emily getting into a heated confrontation such as this. If Emily did or said anything so outrageous, usually he-

He wasn't there, though, and Delia had to stomach the demeaning words all by herself. She knew in her heart none of what Emily said was true, that she had come to accept Ash's natural growth and aging without a moment of hesitation. That keeping him young was impossible- but sparing him from the harsh world for as long as she could- well, that she couldn't deny. And as for the exploration of new feelings, relationships, wants... Delia knew they were bound to happen, and she'd be there for Ash- she just didn't think it all had to happen so fast.

Because someone wanted it to be that way. Because it didn't work out the first time.

"I know everything's changed, Emily," Delia spat, her voice turning sterner as she fought to stand her ground. "I don't need you patronizing me to figure life's normal changes out. And I know you and Richard should be able to see Ash and talk with him. But influence is another thing altogether. This is just about you wanting Ash to have what Jay chose not to have. Because he wanted me."

An eye roll emerged. "Here you go being overdramatic-"

"I am not being overdramatic!" she defended, feeling degraded. "The bottom line is you don't have the right to play matchmaker with my kid!"

The intensity of the squabble morphed into a shouting match, and a surge of the tarnished past sent Emily into a spiral of shortness. "Fine, Delia, you want to know the real reason why I did what I did? I want Ash to meet people who will take him somewhere. People who will move on with him, people who will encourage him, people who are aspiring for similar things. Not people who would hold him back!"

"Is that supposed to be some kind of dig at me?" she shot back.

"I'll let you figure that one out."

Uncontrollably, Delia could feel herself become overwhelmed. Her face turned flushed and her eyes became watery. She didn't understand the blast of sudden pain at first, until it was evident that these harsh words were truly meant for her. About what happened between her and Jay. Delia did not want to be consumed with guilt, nor did she feel she deserved to be blamed for her husband's choice in to not obey what his parents wished for him to do. There was truth in that she and Jay didn't take themselves that far through a higher education or well-paying jobs- but they were beyond content with each other. And whatever path Ash would choose to take, Delia was going to support him. Not literally pave the way for him and dragoon him to follow her idealistic vision. Of course Delia wanted better for her son and she would accept Misty into the family in a heartbeat. She loved them both, which is why Delia wanted them to take all the time they needed.

Not rush into anything.

Tragically, however, wanting the best for Ash was apparently the only thing Delia and her mother-in-law saw eye-to-eye. And evidently, where Delia came from- that wasn't suitable for the likes of Emily.

"Now enough of this," Emily soon commanded, starting to feel exhausted at this late hour. "I don't have time for this back and forth bickering-"

"So that's what you're worried about?" Delia interrupted, fighting the urge of forming tears. "Ash being with someone like me- someone with 'my background'? That 'he'll throw everything away' and you can't let him do that because he's the 'last hope for the Ketchum family legacy,' right?"

That assumption alone struck a deep core inside the woman. The rare moments she thought Emily admired her efforts, maybe even had a _little_ respect for her as a single hardworking mother-

"I don't appreciate the tone you're using with me, Delia," the older woman announced, trying to escape the awkward position she had put herself in.

"And I don't appreciate you intervening," she countered, her voice obviously strained with exasperation. The start of little tears cried desperately to trickle down her cheeks. But Delia fought them off, smearing any start from her lower eyelids as she said her last words. "I'm begging you, Emily, stay out of my son's business; don't force things on him, and _please_, let him make his own decisions- let him decide what he wants. With _my_ approval."

And with that, she hung up the phone.

With a rising chest a deep breath was inhaled and then exhaled. Her pounding head crashed against her fluffed pillow, cloudy chestnut eyes closing before her fingers vigorously rubbed across her face. Was she being dramatic? Delia thought she had every right to stop the senseless meddling before it escalated. It wasn't anything new that Emily's involvement caused her some discomfort at some level.

Though Delia was sure her mother-in-law's abrupt interference wasn't the main thing that bothered her.

It was what reminded her of it.

* * *

The smoldering fire held the tentative gaze of a fixed pair of brown eyes.

Male cackles in the distance had carried on for a good portion of the late evening. Their uncaring, wild, and harsh bouts of boisterous laughter grinded on the weathering nerves of Butch. He was invited to join his fellow brutish Team Rocket employees, but he declined and found himself too deep in thought to even fight against the rough teasing he received in return. Eventually as the night carried on, Cassidy popped out from her own tent even after she declared she was hitting the sack early. Apparently, she couldn't sleep, either.

And for the very same reason at that.

"We're runnin' out of time, Cass."

The golden haired woman raised her head at her partner, her gaze turning sharp as she hugged her knees close to her chest. "You think I don't know that, Hutch?" Cassidy snapped with all loss of patience, proceeding to throw a stick she had poked the embers with to the side.

By her violent movement, Butch followed the stick into the flames.

Slowly. Steadily. Disintegrating.

"So then let's go get 'em," he suggested. Honestly, Butch wanted to be done with the entire thing, except for one little important detail...

"Oh, no, no, no," Cassidy contradicted behind a short maniacal cackle. "Let's let Ketchum settle in for a little bit. Make him comfortable."

Comfortable in that strange house with that man they knew nothing about? When they located Ketchum and his crew the agents decided to wait out their attack and make camp at a decent and secluded distance away. The head of the combat grunts found it disturbingly delightful to give their target a big great surprise, one Cassidy agreed hurriedly with. Butch knew his partner was only agreeing to save her reputation from earlier. From the very thing they both had been hesitant about.

"But we only have two more days," he pressed, not liking the dillydallying, especially with Giovanni breathing down their necks.

"Don't worry," she insisted. "We'll catch him."

"And his friends?"

Cassidy's conniving smile slipped instantly. With hesitancy, she looked over her shoulder, just to make sure none of those men was looking their way. Speech was becoming difficult to form all of a sudden. The question shouldn't have been so challenging to answer. In her head, Cassidy knew what needed to be done, what was _asked_ of them. Failing to do such would not only damage her and Butch's esteem as real criminals, but would also question everything she knew to be right in her world. This world she placed herself in and, for some odd reason, was suddenly struggling to follow...

"Butch..." She breathed in his name like it was nothing, yet the chocking commenced. "I- I-"

"I know," he said, overcome with the exact same feeling. Turning away from her partner slightly, it seemed as if Cassidy was ashamed of the acceptance of her feelings. Butch, of course, could relate. "But we don't have a choice," he followed with a sigh. "Not unless we want to lose our own identities."

"I suppose we have to go through with it, don't we?"

Damn Ketchum. Damn Ketchum and his friends for making everything they once knew and accepted so- so incomprehensible! Cassidy never liked the feeling of uncertainty. To question herself when she already knew what she was and what she stood for. Giovanni had praised them a dozen times and more, practically giving her and Butch this golden opportunity to boost their status and prove once again how undeniably loyal and successful Team Rocket agents they were. Emotions weren't supposed to affect her work. Especially not consideration on a life, whether that be a Pokémon or a human. An innocent life that for some reason she could not see herself taking without batting an eye...

But that's what Giovanni wanted.

As if almost shyly, Cassidy met Butch's eyes. They knew what the other was thinking, yet said nothing more on the subject for fear of truly backing out now, seeing they were both not as callous of villains as they initially thought. Pathetic it may have sounded, equivocation was what they silently chose to do.

Sometimes, assuming the ultimate decision was out of one's control felt more comforting than actually intervening and being accountable.

Or admitting doubt.

* * *

Once more, a minute went by as he conducted his continual stare down with the phone. It had been far too long. He couldn't take it anymore.

The sun had already set. It was late. The Pokémon were all snugged and secured in their pokeballs, and Tracey was already off in bed.

But Sam wasn't. Not quite yet.

He always remembered him working into the early hours of the night: wrapping up last minute phone calls, following up on next day appointments, and finalizing paperwork before officially heading home. He should still be there. With his background and education, he could help remedy the strained relationships.

To help communicate.

Another painstaking minute ticked by. The lamp over his desk flickered against the brightly lit computer screen. Then Sam reached for the receiver and swallowed. Fingers nervously punched away, calling the desired number. After hearing the first ring go off, he set the phone to his ear. A deep breath was inhaled.

He just hoped he'd catch him in time.

And he did.

Behind worn, tired eyes, Sam perked up. Finally, a glimmer of hope. "Hello, Michael?" he said almost frantically into the phone. Steadily, he settled himself again. "It's me, Sam. Is this a good time? I think I might need your help with, uh- a family we're both close to."

One of the documents Spencer emailed and Sam printed off was held tightly in the professor's grasp. Suicune, Raikou, and Entei... A lump was lodged in Sam's throat. He wasn't letting his imagination get to him. Instead, he was forcing himself to confront the concept of destruction he and Jayce feared since the beginning.

The ultimate fear of the unknown and what was out of their control. But Sam had been in control for some time.

And finally with shaking fingers and a fast beating heart, he was taking the reins.

"It's Jayce, Michael. I know where Jayce is."

* * *

**Author's Note Count.:** Yes, so Sam is FINALLY getting some help from someone who isn't a friend of Ash and/or teenager. XD And who better than to reintroduce our old psychologist friend from _Everything Changes_? Michael will definitely be playing a bigger part later on... but how will everything turn out for our heroes? Find out in our next installment, and thank you all for reading! :D


	21. No Good Deed Goes Unpunished

**Author's Note: **Thank you once again to all who left great reviews these last couple of chapters. I genuinely appreciate the support and positive feedback. I was very much surprised to see you guys writing so much! I know how long it can take to write thoughtful reviews, so I appreciate you all taking the time to do so.

As of late, I haven't been feeling very well. I'm just now getting over a cold/flu bug thingy that still _insists_ on hanging around... needless to say, I've been feeling pretty crummy. ^^; Also I'm itching for spring break. Only three more weeks- weee! I hope to get some more writing accomplished then. I also wanted to let you guys know that I will most likely be posting **_one_ **chapter a month for a while. My beta reader has taken on other responsibilities and is rightfully busy. She was kind enough though to still want to edit the story, and so, as of now, we can only churn out one chapter a month for posting. I hope it's all right!

To Guest Heather: I will be honest in that, it has been tricky to balance EVERY character in this story and I appreciate your guy's understanding and patience. But no worries, Misty WILL have development very soon! All I can say spoiler wise, is that she _will_ be a huge support system for Jay as the story continues and will aid in a serious upcoming twist. I'm truly sorry everything has taken so long to buildup. And as for any questions regarding my influences/inspirations for the story/characters I would be more than happy to elaborate on it at the end of the fic. I hope that's okay! Originally, it was my plan to share that all with you then. :)

Anyway, enough of my rambling. I truly hope you all enjoy this new chapter!

**DISCLAIMER: **_Pokémon_ belongs to Satoshi Tajiri. My oc's belong to me.

* * *

**Sunlight's Return**

**Chapter 21**

_"No Good Deed Goes Unpunished"_

Giovanni never found the natural beauty in sunsets.

He was not, however, at all bashful about basking himself in its fading glory of daylight into night.

Tonight was the night. The night that would bring about one of his many steps in making his ultimate goal come true. A team of his most skilled and agile combat agents was arranged and ready for duty, blending into a secret hideout in Pallet's forests until the signal was given to commence the kidnaps. Just by the tingling sensation soaring through his spiked nerves, Giovanni was beginning to taste the impending euphoria upon his lips, already congratulating himself for a job well done. At least in that his plan was foolproof and so methodically thought out, neither Jayce Ketchum, his family, nor Prof. Oak could see it coming.

All he could do now was hope that bumbling trio he recruited wouldn't foul up his perfectly laid out course of attack.

A course of attack that already had the first piece of the legend in place.

While he had been out more than he wished, in particular missing the call of Cassidy and Butch's supposed capture of Ketchum...Giovanni was pleased to have made some progress. The lucky encounter on the plains of Mt. Hideaway was a testament to that, now knowing the energy signal was indeed impeccably strong...

Behind his tall, bulky frame, the smell of scorching metal lingered with rage, and soon was drawn up his nostrils. It had been singeing for quite a while, though Giovanni knew its mighty bolts of electricity could never break the amazingly sturdy bars he had his very own scientists develop. Yes. It was a well-constructed and secure cage. And all he needed were for the other two to be filled.

Hardly moved by a low, intimating rumble directed at him, Giovanni cocked a wryly smile. Then his grin turned just as dark as his silhouette against the dimly lit lair. Any light from the blended colored sunset was dampened by the darkness he created. Though the virtuous light was enough to keep the cage's captive determined to stand its ground.

"Don't fret," Giovanni sneered with a rhythmic chuckle in the back of his throat. "You won't be alone for long."

* * *

"You're worried about him."

Immediately, he tore his focus away and placed it upon Kelly.

Drake gave a half-sheepish smirk as he leaned on the porch railing. "Is it that obvious?"

The older man simply returned his reply with a faint smile and approached his side. They both gazed onward, eyes unintentionally landing on the same man who was fulfilling their duty of scouting the area for any unwanted guests.

And waiting for a sign from the north to breeze their way in.

Still focused on Jay, the islander caught onto Kelly's trailing of eyes. "You know, you don't have to be concerned."

"But I do," Kelly replied simply. "All living creatures' feelings matter. And from what I can tell, your brother is suffering from a heavy burden... Guilt, perhaps?" A brow rose when he noticed Drake retract. "You may still see me as a complete stranger, but I assure you Jayce's in my best interest."

Remaining hopeful, Drake preferred to think this Dr. Kelly character was indeed looking out for Jay's welfare. Besides being somewhat evasive with certain questions, he hadn't really given the islander a definite reason not to trust him. Like his brother, Drake had a kind of gut that could sense the decency in people. Unlike Jay, however, he was more willing to open up to strangers and take the gamble. Whatever it was about Kelly, his mannerisms and soft-spoken voice were enough to grant the trainer security to be candid. Plus, with the silence they were receiving from Prof. Oak, there was really no one he could go to with his worries concerning Jay. Neither Misty nor Molly could fully grasp the complex situation, nor did Drake expect them to, never mind it would be completely inappropriate.

Sighing, Drake caved in and confessed. "He feels ashamed for abandoning his family, and even though he tries to keep his hopes up, I know Jay thinks he's an utter failure and disappointment to his family. That he's not good enough for...her."

"His love?"

"His wife, Delia," the islander elucidated. "I don't know her on an intimate level, but I can't imagine her rejecting him like that. It's just...not in her character. But then again, ten years apart can change a person. Especially since their relationship has been so damaged with no communication."

Time and change went hand in hand, after all.

"Love has a way with toying with the heart, both in euphoria and tragedy," Kelly reminded. "I can see where Jayce's concerns derive from."

Drake nodded steadily in return, now deeply pondering over what Jay had been through. What he confronted daily and what he constantly had to hear.

"Sam keeps in contact with him often. Giving him updates on Delia and Ash- his son. I can't even imagine how difficult that is for him. To hear about how well they're doing and to know he can't come home and be a part of that..."

His face was fixed with a serious stare, though it eventually broke into something sympathetic and, at the same time, bewildered. "I've never seen any man love his wife as much as Jay does," the islander said quietly. Then it suddenly hardened. "Delia would be a fool if she wouldn't take him back."

"Regardless if she was oblivious to the circumstances surrounding his departure?"

Even with Kelly's legitimate question, Drake didn't regret nor reconsider his assertion. A long time ago, the man had decided to settle on this perspective. Yes, there were plenty of reasons to warrant Delia's lack of trust in Jay. An abundant amount that would cause most to think she would have every right to personally pack and hand him his bags, telling the estranged father and husband to hit the highroad and never come back. But knowing his brother for who he truly was, for understanding the entire web he was struggling to free himself from...

"How do you know so much?" Drake boldly posed with raised eyebrows. Not only Jay had been prying for that answer. "How did you know we were coming this way? About us in general? Don't you find our weariness a little warranted?"

Kelly shrugged. "Without question. Let's just say, I work in higher places."

Again with riddles. This quandary over Kelly's purpose and knowledge was one Drake didn't want to battle with. Being as persistent as his brother would only give him a migraine, and at any rate, Kelly was hardly a threat. An answer, though, _would_ be beneficial, and the lack of one kept the islander on his toes until the old man's strangely calming presence seemed to sooth him for just a moment.

As Drake met those weathering ocean blue eyes, the wrinkles relaxed around Kelly's face and soon he turned back to the breathtaking sunset. "If you would like," he started, "I can speak with Jayce."

Drake snorted softly at the sudden offering. "If he won't tell me all the heavy details unless he _has_ to, then I doubt you'll get much out of him."

"It's worth trying. Maybe all he needs is an unbiased viewpoint to listen to him. Someone who can show him he can open up."

An unbiased viewpoint... Sam was swayed by Delia's woes and his own inner struggle of guilt, while Drake found himself siding with his brother due to his understanding of the circumstances, and of course, loyalty towards Jay. Coming for sincere and realistic advice from either one was like being pulled in two different directions. Yes, there was a ring of truth in both the professor and islander's words, but to hear from someone on the outside, someone who seemed as wise as they appeared with graceful aging...

Drake paused before shooting Kelly a nod of agreement.

* * *

He never liked wearing ties, and he certainly didn't like putting one on.

Brock had shown him at least five times, though every instance Ash wrapped the tie around his neck, if felt like he was being suffocated by his own hands. So starting the process over again, Ash hastily removed the piece of cloth that, in his eyes, resembled a noose. And at this rate, the little bow-tie Dani had given Pikachu to add to his already "cute" self would be fastened on better than anything he could do. Nevertheless, Ash was determined to look as pristine and polished as he could. Fingertips dipped in hair-gel somewhat tamed his hair just enough for it to appear more groomed than usual. Cologne was also spritzed across his body, accompanied by some aftershave Brock had lent him once picking it up at the store. Ash was decked out in a simple but refined suit selected and purchased by none other than Emily. He didn't mind, though, seeing he wanted to look his best for the night. This event was important to his mother's family, after all, and so he as well wanted to honor all the time, effort, and commitment put into that treasured inn.

Even if his mind was adamant in wandering elsewhere...

What was pressing gravely on Ash's heart, that dampened any high spirits he had for the night ahead, was what Gary had promised him.

What he had been waiting to know for ten long, painstaking years.

A deep breath was sucked in. The tie was still too tight. Tearing it off, Ash tried once again.

Tonight was finally the night he'd know the truth of his father's leaving and, possibly, his whereabouts. At the moment, Ash was consumed with a variety of emotions: anticipation, excitement, worry, relief, and, somehow, dread. On the off chance the answer he had wanted to know wasn't ideal, Ash wished there was a way to preview before fully knowing. And if this was all just a vindictive and plain mean scheme by Gary, then the raven-haired teen swore he'd have his cousin's head on a platter.

But if it wasn't...the excitement in Ash's heart was dying to at last burst and free itself from the agonizing feeling of loss. The constant unknown of his father's reasons for leaving had eaten at him for so long, and if answers couldn't be given, the pain would heighten back to what he originally felt. On that stormy day when what he knew of his family crumbled into a two-person household...

He breathed in. He breathed out. Getting himself worked up wouldn't do any good. Preparing for the worst was only logical, seeing Gary telling any bit of truth was fifty-fifty at best. As was preparing for the good...

The twisting of the doorknob forced Ash to snap back into reality. Chocolate eyes flashed over to the gradually opening door, the presence revealing itself as none other than Delia. Ash smiled softly as he met his mother's gaze, the woman inviting herself in at this point, and soon gawked at his present state.

"Honey," she gushed maternally, "you look so handsome."

He could see the start of tears cloud Delia's chestnut eyes as she came up to him, her motherly pride swelling at the cleaned-up and striking young man before her. At that moment, she mentally gave both herself and Ash a pat on the back for coming so far. That despite all the unexpected and sorrowful obstacles, Delia still managed to raise her once precious little boy into a maturing teenager.

"You look beautiful yourself, Mom," Ash complimented, his expression a little astonished.

Never had Ash seen her shine so elegantly as that night. Her auburn locks were down, loose curls falling past her shoulders with a breathtaking gloss to her flowing tresses. Her skin tone was complimented nicely with a burgundy-colored, princess-seamed v-cut dress along with dusty rose earrings and open-toed heels. Her face so delicate against her soft flesh-toned makeup, Delia really did appear forever youthful. She truly looked both sophisticated and glamorous, bound to stand out among the rest at the gathering.

"Thank you," the mother replied humbly. Then she inhaled, centering herself. "This is finally happening."

The celebration of the inn's anniversary, everything she had prepped with her mother's staff, was _at last _going to be seen by the entire town. It was amazing to think how far they had come in just those few weeks of preparation, and that now they could finally savor and enjoy all the work they completed to make the bash as spectacular as they prayed for it to be. That and another small detail Prof. Oak would _hopefully_ provide...

A brow rose slightly as Ash examined his mother's face. Something was suddenly plaguing Delia's mind, as if the glow that lit up her complexion had suddenly dimmed for some unknown reason. Too stumped, Ash decided not to pry. If anything, the teenager believed it was his own fears reading into things. That the reality around of him was all construed by his own consuming thoughts.

"Yeah," he breathed, trying to hold onto his small smile. Steadily, chocolate eyes drifted to the floor. "I just hope everything goes okay tonight."

"Me too," she nodded.

Yes, while they didn't know it, both mother and son were not referring to the party, but something _entirely _different.

As predicted, Ash didn't want Delia to know such. With all honestly, he wanted the celebration to begin and end with positive happenings all the way around. After all these years, working at the inn even before he was born, Ash was aware of how much the establishment meant to his mother, and how passionate she was about honoring all who aided in making it what it was today.

"You deserve this, Mom," the teenager soon said, grabbing her hand gently out of compassion. "You've worked really hard and I hope- I just hope everything goes well tonight."

Yes, everything going smoothly would be beyond gratifying. _Everything. _

"I'm sure all our efforts will pay off tonight," Delia assured.

From there, she embraced her son in a gradual hold, the start of tears returning with a vengeance as she rubbed his back with affection. She knew why tears wanted to roll down her cheeks; the glorious occasion was full of too much euphoria to take for granted, both to have Ash around for this celebration and for the possible news to be delivered from Sam.

"Thank you for helping out, pumpkin," Delia said, sniffling softly. "I know how much you love traveling, but it's been so nice to have you home again."

Even if his calls were sporadic during his journeys, Ash had never forgotten how lonely his mother became. Without him at, she was in many ways by herself. Yes, she had her parents, Prof. Oak, neighbors, and of course Mr. Mime when he wasn't busy attending to Leah and Ernest's house, and yet- it was never the same without her little boy. He was family, so close by blood, by bound...

In his heart, Ash believed he was _the _person who still managed to secure everything his family once had despite their sufferings. And, if his efforts were successful, he would solidify his beliefs of his father's integrity as undeniably true. So this shot, his _only_ opportunity to know about his father's departure and what he could do to bring him back, was something Ash stubbornly set his eyes on and refused to let go like anything else he was passionate about. This wasn't just for his own security and gratification, but for the woman who had sacrificed her own personal wants to put his needs above her. Delia deserved the closure.

Even in Ash's eyes, it was sometimes too difficult for his mom to go searching for herself. And so, he was adamant to give her what he could.

Steadily, Delia drew away from Ash, allowing the atmosphere to ease again as she collected herself. "Now," the mother started, smoothing out her son's unruly locks, "I'll let you finish getting ready. Meet me down stairs in ten?"

Ash nodded. "Okay."

Before twirling, she beamed at him for another time. Then, noticing Pikachu decked out in his adorable accessory, Delia couldn't help but allow her brilliant smile to grow and coax the mouse along to venture downstairs to take care of last minute business.

"C'mon, Pikachu," she ordered warmly with a gesture of her hand.

"Pika!"

Jumping off Ash's table, the electric mouse followed Delia's sweet call and left his master to finish getting ready. As the bedroom door closed, the sound of little paws scurrying across the floor mingling with the heels of Delia's shoes faded. He could just barely hear his mom and Pikachu travel down the stairs as he stared back into the mirror.

Again, Ash tackled the simple yet tricky task of securing his tie. Too tight. Too loose. With every failed attempt, he was going to have to embarrassingly ask his mom to do it. Eventually, Ash stopped fiddling with tie, fingers frustrated and unable to fasten the thing around his neck as they fell to his side.

Huffing, somber chocolate eyes stared at their reflection. And just for a second, he saw someone else besides himself.

_Where are you Dad?_

* * *

The wind blew.

It almost felt like a calling. A sign as leaves from full, leafy branches rattled against a faint current. But it was nothing significant and his heart dampened at this.

Jay wished for _something_ to happen.

Helplessly standing by and thinking about how everything the last couple of weeks had been shot to hell and what was occurring in Pallet was driving him mad. First the devastating loss of the car, then the risk to his comrades' lives, then his skirmish of differences with Sam... Jay was far too bullheaded to call the professor back and hash out their different approaches on the matter. Too submersed in heavy feelings to scrounge up the nerve and confront the issue, to possibly find out if the professor had relinquished his whereabouts to Delia, and her response...

Eyelids closed in a tight hold. Sam was going to do it. He was going to tell her tonight at that party. Probably was already there. And she-

"Your brother tells me you have a family?"

Opening his eyes, Jay withdrew from the darkening sky reflected on the glass. He then turned to find Kelly sitting at the kitchen table shaving an apple. Locking eyes, Jay's frown stiffened. While he had made rough amends with Kelly, he wasn't in the mood to talk all philosophical with the old man. His personal life and deepest emotions were some things he preferred to keep to himself. Over the years, locking everything away seemed safer than facing the grave discussion its hardships could bring.

"I thought you already knew everything about me?" the master retorted.

"You're concerned for their safety," Kelly continued, unreceptive as usual to the man's snarky wit.

Jay snorted. "That goes without saying." He focused his gaze back outside the window. Impatience was spreading like a disease. "When do you think it'll come?"

That "it" was now well defined as Suicune, though the trainer could not grasp how the creature would supply him with the answers he craved. A couple of days had passed since their run-in with the mysterious Donald Kelly, and still, he wasn't given a clear picture as to what was going on and what would come of it. Time was of the essence, and Jay wasn't about wasting any of it, which only aggravated his lack of patience.

The older man shrugged, now also looking out the window. "It's hard to say. I would imagine soon."

_You keep saying that_, Jay wanted to snap, but held enough restraint to keep his comebacks to himself.

Instead, he leveled Kelly with a stony expression before ocean blue eyes diverted back down to the half-shaved apple. Unmoved, Kelly straightened his posture in his chair. Knife holding one hand, the apple steadily resting in the other. Jay couldn't tell what he was thinking, and so, he didn't expect what was about to fall from the old man's mouth.

"While we wait," Kelly started thoughtfully, "tell me this then: what is your ultimate fear?"

Jay made a face. "What does that have to do with anything?"

A layer of red skin was peeled, curling as it gracefully fell. "Is it death?" he presumed aloud, focused on his task. "Rejection?"

Jay watched the shavings of apple skin tumble downward again and again. Where in the world was this coming from? Last time Jay checked, this wasn't some form of a fun sleepover consisting of dares, would you rathers, and talk of one's biggest dreams and worries. His tolerance was already severely pricked with intensifying nerves and deep agitation. Presently, the last thing the master wanted was to discuss the feelings and thoughts he had bottled up for so long.

Staring briefly, Jay's silence eventually broke. "What did Drake tell you?" he challenged, almost sounding demanding. If his brother had told the old geezer anything personal, he swore-

All he got in return was a raised brow. "Both?" Kelly proposed.

Was that supposed to foul up his train of thought? The master hardly flinched as he persisted his intense stare at the older man, keeping himself as even as possible. Even if he had the tendency to do so, Jay didn't enjoy thinking the worst in people. Due to this, something deep inside of him was telling him to relax and let go of this learned reaction to be sharp and overly cautious. Yet, admitting such things out loud seemed strange, almost foreign in a sense, as if he had become accustomed to just- running.

Both literally and metaphorical.

For another time, Jay paused. Kelly waited. His expression was serene and neutral behind those deep creased wrinkles, giving the master a silent bit of assurance for him to confess. So Jay turned down to the floor. "...I'm afraid of the inevitable," he answered cryptically. "I think you can figure that one out."

"So fear's what's been driving you, then?" the old man presumed.

"My concern for my family's safety is what has motivated me this whole time," Jay corrected swiftly.

"Even if you don't receive the salvation and peace you deserve in the end?"

Kelly's prediction became true thanks to the man's fall of silence. He was concentrating back on the wooden floor, arms crossed over his chest with a deep heavy inhale. Perhaps striking a deep chord of thought in the master would do him some good, Kelly thought. He was approaching him with an objective, even, yet firm position in instigating Jay to let go of whatever troubles he had forced himself to hold onto. Clouded by his own array of disrupted and frustrated thoughts, Jay fought against Kelly's direct question, one in which he had tried many times to confront himself with... Yet, when he accepted it for the first time, it was too challenging to continue letting his own selfish desires go. Then to quarrel with them, as if truly casting himself as nothing but a monster who, when touched, was anything blissful, ruined what was once so pure.

_She wants you back, Jayce..._

Sam's claim could be taken in several ways. It didn't necessarily mean Delia wanted to have a fresh start with him and remain married. It could simply mean she was ready to move on, to finally receive the overdue answers she deserved to start over without him. With someone else...

"Or do you think you don't deserve to be- happy?"

The question suddenly snapped Jay out of his nightmarish trance, surprised blue eyes gleaming at the awaiting Kelly. In return, the master cocked his head to the window, toned arms wrapping closer to his body, retracting as if seeking security. Self-doubt and shame always seemed to override any wishful desires.

Steadily, Jay glared back up with a rebuttal. "I've hurt a lot of people in hopes of achieving a greater good. I'm not proud of it. The old saying of 'no good deed goes unpunished' rings some truth."

"So you care what others think?"

His eyes hardened with an icy glaze, enhancing the overall glower the creases of his skin were permeating. "I could give a damn about what most think of me," Jay growled in a grumble. If he had cared what others back home or even strangers he met on his journey thought of him, he knew without a doubt that he wouldn't have come as far as he currently had. It was just one more thing he adapted himself to confront, and was now somewhat ingrained in his tainted disposition.

"But your family?" soon contradicted Kelly.

The apple had finally been perfectly clean of its tempting, deeply colored skin. Now it was nothing but pale-yellow flesh, exposed to the elements and soon the ugly blemishes of discolored bruises and sprouts of mold.

Inside, Jay could feel his own self grow more and more vulnerable to the year's bruises. That final question left him unable to speak as a large lump of dread rested in his throat. He wrote two letters. Obvious signs that, despite the crumbling of their family unit, he was still the man that Ash and Delia could rely on and believe in. Sadly, those one-time notes to each individual were a long shot in making them at least _think_ about him and his unexplained reasons for departing. Make them see he had never stopped caring... A definite answer Jay could never receive until he confronted Delia and Ash himself. Asking Sam how they were doing was invasive enough, considering the professor's nosiness regarding their feelings towards Jay would be rather peculiar. Too many times had the master _wanted_ to ask Sam if he could ask them_ the_ question.

Though in the end, a part of him would die either way. Not knowing, or finding out the dreaded truth because- Ash and Delia were his light. If they no longer loved him, if they despised him with every fiber of their being, then, in a sense, that light at the end of the tunnel- would extinguish.

Only when he sucked in a heavy breath and closed his eyes did that lump at last travel down Jay's throat. His expression indicated he tried calming himself, digging deep to find the strength to reply. Of course, he already knew the answer. Realizing after all this time...to Jay, it would be nearly impossible to regain that heavenly family of three because of so many transparent rationales, because so much damage had been done-

Because he had to force himself to change, and so, would be repudiated.

Once the mustering of inner strength had commenced, Jay caught Kelly's gaze and held it. Unlike before, the old man was the one to be perplexed. Blinking, he was caught off guard by the clouding in the master's breathtaking eyes. It was evident how hard Jay was trying to hold back the formation of tears, so Kelly made no mention of it and allowed him to speak freely.

"That image of me," Jay began very quietly, becoming susceptible to his emotions, "...what my family saw of me before I left-" A faint shake of the head ensued. Eyes became murkier. "He doesn't exist anymore. And I don't think he'll ever come back."

"Why's that?"

Black eyebrows furrowed in frustration. "Because he didn't have to lie. He didn't have to keep his guard up. He didn't have to be so cautious and...distant. He didn't have to dig deep and find that innate primitive drive to protect his life when in danger. That's something he still can't get over."

Transiting from a domestic common life to that of a being treated like some fugitive on the run... The apple rolled out of the older man's limp grasp across the table, before the bowl (in which it originated from) resting in the middle of the table, stopped it in his tracks. Kelly felt for him by imagining the kind of emotional toll Jay dealt with daily for _ten_ years. It would take a strong and resilient person to be bombarded with such unfathomable chaos and upheaval. Loss of stability, hope, and the loneliness would be natural during the extraordinary test of determination. The danger alone and continual heightened stresses would do a significant number on an individual. Especially when being physically attacked, giving the victim no choice but to learn the primeval ways of defense against an assault. Punching, hitting, weaponry- a head forced down into the vicious water, propelling the individual to do _something_ if he wished to live- Then, to stand back once the aftermath passed, to see what one had done-

The guilt and reoccurring nightmares must have been beyond burdensome.

"But..." The word came out of Kelly's mouth, however nothing followed. He centered himself for a moment, trying to get that haunting picture out of his mind and keep his pity for the poor soul in front of him in perspective. Quietly, as he folded his hands, he began once more. "If you were able to go back home-"

"Why does any of this matter to you?" angrily clenched teeth finally snapped out of flustered rage. "Aren't you just supposed to tell me what's going to happen? Or is this psychology session part of your whole 'old wise man' shtick?"

The anger within Jay boiled over, but only furthered to back up Kelly's deduction. "You deflect with sarcasm when getting to the root of your most intense fears."

Jay scoffed loudly. "This isn't about fear. It's just the reality of my life!-"

"You're afraid of the 'what-ifs,'" Kelly interrupted sharply. "You've thought about it before; envisioning the off-chance you'd come home to your wife and child. For everything to go back to normal."

"I haven't done anything so foolish-"

With a firm cast of an all-knowing look, Jay stopped himself short. His furious eyes softened dramatically, eyebrows drooping as he recoiled. He bit back on his words shamefully as he came to terms that he had almost lied to both Kelly and himself. At that point, screaming or groaning loudly seemed like a sudden reaction worth taking. Nonetheless, he sucked in a few heavy inhales, the master's cold eyes retreating to the floor again along with his insecurities.

"At least- during the beginning of my journey...I thought about it constantly," he corrected himself somberly. "But over time, I've come to realize no one is going to take me back with open arms. Yes, I've dreamed of coming home...but it never ended well. It was more like a nightmare than a dream, and even when I tell myself I have a chance to set things right, when I make Drake and Sam think I still have hope... All it does is dash my hopes even further."

The feeling he was left with after confessing one of his deepest concerns he hid behind that pristine mask of faith... Somehow, announcing it was both revealing and heart aching all at once. Thoughts were so jumbled and conflicted, Jay couldn't tell if it was his own pessimistic and plausible assumptions getting the best of him or if any challenges Kelly made in return were nothing but absurd observations he didn't need to hear.

That he was indeed afraid.

"So you've decided to let fear eat you away?" the old man more so stated than asked. "Why not let go of what you've been able to control, and take charge to confront the unknown."

Jay ran a hand through his wild locks. "I may be reckless, but I'm _not_ bullheaded and rash enough to endanger others just because I might have a fifty-fifty chance to come out of this in one piece."

"So you intend to stay in the same old routine then? Has it gotten you anywhere?"

"It's given me_ this_ much, which I_ should_ be grateful for."

If it wasn't for Prof. Oak, Drake, heck, even Brock and Misty, none of this would have been possible. And he couldn't forget about all the Pokémon he had caught and trained over the years. With their constant devotion and support, Jay would have surely disappeared off the face of the earth.

In return, Kelly took into account what the master claimed. He made a fair argument, one that the researcher could not protest. Yes, the loyalty and aid Jay had received over the years was a true testament to love and the security of resolution. Even so, Kelly wondered if Jay could find that inner strength and take on the most horrifying confrontation all on his own.

Without a second thought, Kelly knew the answer.

"But not enough?" he rebutted yet again, leaning forward in his seat with open arms as he boldly began his mild interrogation. "What are you holding yourself back from? It seems you have a golden opportunity to gain some aid from the league as you've mentioned- yet now, you seem to have second thoughts. What is it you're so afraid of?"

For a while, Jay had asked himself the same question. His body stiffened as a huff flew from his nose. A few seconds passed as Kelly studied the man squirming awkwardly. Eyes playing the dancing about game for what felt like the hundredth time. Evidently, Jay didn't like to be cornered and he certainly didn't like being confronted with the hard questions either.

"My wife's...looking for me," the master mumbled.

_Finally._ _Something. _Kelly nodded. "A sign."

"That she wants to move on," Jay finished bitterly, now scowling at the slightly tarnished gold ring on his wedding finger. The harsh tint of his icy blue eyes, however, abruptly morphed into a cast of melancholy, accompanied by a softening of his baritone voice.

From there, a shiver soared through Jay's body. "Why has it taken her this long to go out of her way to find me?" he asked in an almost shaken voice. "I don't blame her for wanting to shun me, but it makes me wonder what her intentions exactly are."

"Are you concerned her response will ruin your state even further?" Kelly openly inquired. "Has she been unfaithful to you? If she's been loyal this entire time, I think that's an evident enough sign she still cares for you."

"Of course she does," the master said so obviously. Asking such a thing sounded downright stupid. "Delia's not the kind of person to turn on someone like that, especially since we're _married_. That we had something for so long... She may be furious and done with me, but that doesn't mean she'd stoop as low as to cheat on me or forget what we had. She's someone who would end it properly first before starting a new relationship with someone else."

"So you fear this is all about her wanting to leave you, then?"

The constant talk of fear, of concerns, of "being afraid" of what might happen- of what Delia would do when she... Maybe Kelly had worked his voodoo magic on him just enough to let down his guard, but Jay had had his fill. An inner struggle was still very evident in whether he trusted Kelly or not- No. It was more on the lines that he _did_ trust Kelly; rather, discussing such touchy matters was what grinded his nerves and the reasons why the researcher felt so compelled to know.

Sneering, Jay cast an addled glare in the old man's direction. "What does my happiness matter to you?" he countered. "Why the hell are you even wasting your time with me? You get to know everything about me, and I know nothing about you. I don't exactly call that fair with our little exchange. And I don't think you're just some old hermit who's magically been blessed with knowledge and the typical scruffy gray beard to complete your ensemble!"

The last part was not to smile wryly about. Kelly retrieved the apple. "My purpose is only for the greater good. Like I said, I have resources."

"So what are you? A spy of some sort?"

He took a bite out of the juicy fruit, chewed and swallowed. "I thought this discussion was about you?"

Either he didn't care or didn't pick up on the master's thinning patience. A low, rumbling groan was released from Jay's vocal cords. No more games. No more talk of his worries. _Especially_ about Delia-

Delia... Jay couldn't help but stare fondly down at his tarnished ring for another time.

It didn't last long though.

"I don't have time for this," he quickly snapped, straightening his posture. "Is Suicune coming or not?"

And, as expected, Kelly didn't reply in a typical yes or no fashion.

"Patience is a virtue, Jayce. One of the many you have learned to endure."

* * *

All crossed their fingers for the party to start off with a bang. And to their delight, it was lively as ever.

Delia and Ash arrived just before guests began to pour into the quaint dwelling. Like a gracious host, Delia took charge in greeting people at the door, splitting the duty with her mother while Michelle was back in the kitchen giving orders away like a drill sergeant. By his mom's side, Ash felt inclined to welcome visitors too, especially those of a large party as they crowded in the doorway. He could feel his continually upbeat smile quake underneath the impending events to come, and his sweaty palms becoming noticeably clammier. Intentionally, Ash's eyes danced around the entryway, looking subtly for Gary's upcoming entrance.

And Ash wasn't the only one antsy for forthcoming drama.

Lurking around the corner of the dining room were Jessie and James, peering at the twerp and his mother. They were all decked out in their work uniforms, nametags and all, as they occasionally smiled at strangers passing them by. It was stupefying to the duo that they had lasted the full length of their mission without their identities being accidentally revealed through the infamous dessert thefts. And so, here they were. Ready to keep tabs on Ash and Delia like a pair of Braviary until the exact moment when their fellow intimidating agents could intervene with their brawny strength.

"The crowd's really starting to thicken," Jessie mused quietly.

James's nerves spiked across his skin, knowing the inevitable was to come. "Oh Jessie, I'm so nervous," he whispered. "What if-"

"_Relax_," she urged, eyes peeling every which-way. "All will go according to plan. We've got Meowth and the combat team set up, and as long as we follow the twerp and his mother around_ and_ stay incognito, everything should work out."

He wanted to say he hoped that their unforgiving streak of bad luck would for once put up its hat and coat and retire. And yet, James was subconsciously wishing for their inept attempts of execution to come in at the worst time as it always had.

At that moment, the unnerving anticipation of the scheduled kidnapping was too much for the confused criminal to choose a side. Of course, James wasn't about to let Jessie find that out. Earlier, he had gotten nowhere with Meowth in convincing Jessie that their ho-hum jobs were surprisingly making them merry chumps. While they would occasionally relapse back to their innocent days before dedicating their lives to Team Rocket, Jessie was evidently certain about which route she preferred to take. With all the dire stakes at hand, James could only believe his partner was willing to see this mission through just for that half-baked bonus and Giovanni's approval.

Still in ignorant bliss of darkness lurking about, Delia and Ash continued to welcome people even with the overpowering noise due to the crowd's congested space. At times, Delia felt as if she caught her son glancing around, as if looking for someone. From the corner of her eye, she'd see him simply smile back at her, acting like his behavior wouldn't provoke any imminent provocation. Whatever he was doing, the mother decided not to find it suspicious, and instead assumed Ash was simply scouting the area thanks to the immense gathering they were consumed with.

Focusing forward, Delia could feel her hand begin to tire from the never-ending clasping and shaking of palms. Silently, she wondered when their turnout would finally lessen, until the next pair of guests roused the woman to put on her gentle but welcoming grin once again.

"Mayor and Mrs. Cornwell. We're so glad you came."

Promptly Mayor Fredrick Cornwell graciously took Delia's hand and beamed. "But of course, Delia. This fine establishment deserves as much support as it can get!"

She was relieved to hear the mayor of Pallet was behind their establishment. Even if his wife was being her usual bitter self, making some half smirk with her nose up in the air as she quietly stood by.

"Thank you very much for your patronage," the woman replied, ending the handshake. She then swiftly turned to her son and motioned. "You remember my son, Ash?"

The mayor's smile grew, his eyes widening slightly as he turned to the young man. "Ah yes, Ash. My son Gilbert admires you greatly. Says you're a true example of an accomplished trainer."

The heat across Ash's cheeks indicated the trainer of his bashfulness; nonetheless, his heart soared when praise was directed his way. Rubbing the back of his head, he did his best not to sound too boastful or arrogant. That he had learned to curb with age.

"Oh well uh, thank you sir," he answered humbly. "I've heard good things about Gilbert too. He seems to be training like a natural."

"He's putting in a fair effort," the mayor answered. "Your Bulbasaur and all your training in general has really been an inspiration to him and his Ivysaur."

Another boost to his ego.

"Glad to be of service!"

"People can say what they like about the other trainers, but you, young man, are the most talented in my eyes," the man said with a wagging finger. "Must be that Ketchum blood. Ketchums have always been superior trainers around here."

That's not what Ash had always heard. Well, he was well aware of Prof. Oak's constant praising of his father but other than that, no one bothered to throw a compliment in any Ketchum's direction. And never did he hear much about Richard's training days...

"Oh yeah?" Ash replied with a tiny grin of surprise.

The mayor's smile bloomed. "Yes, indeed! Keep training, Ash," he soon encouraged, patting the young man's shoulder. "Why, one day I'm sure you're going to put Pallet Town on the map!"

As his lips curved upward for another time, Ash hoped he wasn't smiling like a complete idiot. Over the years, he had learned to rein in his moments of euphoria before they morphed into arrogance. At the moment, however, he couldn't deny being over the moon by the_ mayor's_ kind remarks!

"Well, I hope you both have a wonderful time," Delia soon said, now inviting the pair to follow an awaiting waiter.

As the prestigious couple exited, Delia too released a little grin that was begging to escape her lips. She then felt inclined to rub Ash's upper arm affectionately, as if congratulating and at the same time reminding him how much potential he had. Tragically, Ash's moment of glory faded as fast as it had come. Up from behind them they felt the presence of Michelle, scooting between the two as she lowered her voice with dashing eyes.

"Was that just Meanie Minnie?" she asked, already glancing over her shoulder.

Delia's lips immediately tightened, trying to remain discreet. "Hmhm. Being her usual mean self. But the mayor was fine. I think everything with them will go all right tonight."

"Thank God for at least that," the chef breathed a sigh of relief. Then, she added in a snarky tone, "I'm sure Tom will be tickled pink that the mayor's here and that he gets his 'special' seat with him. But there is _no way_ your mom and I are making this evening about him," Michelle adamantly continued. "No matter how badly Tom wants it to be that way-"

"Mom, look."

Ash's calling and gesturing of head prompted Delia to tear away from Michelle and back onto the flooding crowd. Drawing towards their direction was a pair she was in no mood to see let alone speak to. And Michelle, like anyone else who knew Delia well, could feel the impending dread too.

"Oh, and the party's just getting started," the chef mumbled, now catching a glimpse of the in-laws. "I better get back to the kitchen. Make sure Marcus doesn't burn the sauce."

Surprisingly, as they approached an anxious Delia and Ash, the usually bitter couple didn't have frowns plastered across their faces. They were both smiling, eyes wandering around as if admiring the front entrance to the establishment.

Putting her professional face on and tuning her upbeat voice as well, Delia coaxed them over with the call of their names. "Emily, Richard," she welcomed with underlining apprehension as they approached her, "so glad you came."

"We wouldn't miss it for the world," Emily grinned, though it was obvious her focus was directed at Ash.

"You've done a wonderful job with the place, Delia," Richard complimented. "Much better than those stuffy D.K.R. functions," he added with a witty smirk.

Instantly, his wife frowned at this and gave the older man a mild glare. Of course, as usual, it went ignored.

"Thank you, both," Delia replied, still grinning. It was just a few seconds, but to the woman, it felt as if there was still some awkwardness in the air. Her quarrel with Emily most likely was known to Richard. While she didn't wish to advertise the reason behind their dispute to Ash, Delia was determined to set things right and, at the very least, make amends on her end.

"Emi-"

"So, where will we be sitting?" her mother-in-law cut to the chase. "We'll need a larger table, seeing the size of our party."

Slowly, Delia's mouth closed. It was evident to her what Emily was doing. Wanting to avoid all discussion of the topic and to stay blatantly displeased with her. So, in spirit of the keeping the evening a joyous occasion, Delia didn't allow herself to become frustrated by her mother-in-law's blatant avoidance. The inn was hardly the place for them to rehash their latest argument, though Delia felt Emily didn't need to be so childish about it.

"Annie, Gary, and his girlfriend will be coming shortly," Richard felt the need to elucidate.

"Of course," Delia answered, hinting she had already made arrangements. "One of our waiters will lead you to your designated table."

As swiftly as Richard and Emily entered, the couple disappeared with the unlucky waiter who got stuck with them, Emily proceeding all high and mighty with Richard behind.

Once they disappeared around the corner with Emily's barking voice at the already trembling waiter, Delia released a noticeable sigh and tried to collect herself. Noticing Emily's odd behavior, Ash raised a brow.

"Somethin' going on between you and Grandma?" he assumed.

Blinking, Delia produced a nervous grin. "Oh, uh, nothing unusual."

It was Ash's turn to give her a puzzled expression, but thankfully for Delia's rising anxiety it was unable to last as another voice called to her among the cluster of folks.

"Hey, Delia!"

Catching sight of a familiar blonde woman, Delia's face lightened with delight and invited her over. "Annie!" she waved.

With arms stretched out they met in a hug, and then parted as Annie began to gush at the lovely array of decor around her. "Oh my God, Del, the place looks so beautiful!"

"Well, we couldn't have done this without you," Delia said modestly.

"I can't take all the credit. You guys did most of the work. Especially your mom. Besides, if anything, I just helped you keep my mom at bay," she joked in a hush-hush tone, though there was plenty of truth to her claim.

Chestnut eyes grew huge. "You can say _that_ again."

"Did she already come in by any chance?"

Knowing whom Annie was referring to, Delia's gaze lingered behind her. "Hmhm. She's with your dad, getting a table."

"I better join her then." Knowing Emily, she'd have the entire dining room arranged to her _exact _specifications just so she didn't have to struggle to see past a tall man who ironically was seated in front of her. That and the continual grumbling of Richard for Emily to mind her own business, which would end in utter failure as always.

Looking over her shoulder, Annie gestured to the two apparently unnoticed people behind her. "Gary and Harper are with me right now," she explained, having them come forward, "and Chad's just running a little behind."

"Is everything fine?" Delia asked, concern brewing in her vocal cords. She had been wondering herself where her sister-in-law's husband was.

The blonde woman waved her hand. "Oh, yeah. No worries. C'mon, kids."

Whatever it was, Annie didn't appear worried as she strolled on by with her son and Harper tagging along. Most likely, Chad was running late due to his work hours, and when he arrived, Delia would make sure to locate him and have him join the others. Though they were family by law, it was still ever so blissful to have them show up and be so enthusiastic for the inn's successes.

As for Ash, he was less than thrilled to see Gary present. Being polite, he returned Annie's and Harper's passing smiles with his own until Gary walked by. Abruptly, his delighted expression darkened, morphing into a harsh glare as he caught glimpse of Gary's growing smirk. And where his hand was placed. To Ash's surprise, Gary's fingers were intertwined with Harper's. Peering at their loving gesture, he felt his stomach wrench over what he had done and how he had actually made an undeserving Gary...dare he say, _happy_. Focused on the meandering couple, the teenager could only imagine what ludicrous lie Gary had spun to push Harper further into believing he wanted a fresh start... Alas, Ash was yet again torn away before he could burn a hole in the back of ex-rival's head with those piercing chocolate eyes. More guests needed to be greeted and led to their assigned waiter, and so, keeping himself in check, Ash went on aiding his mother.

He could always deal with Gary later.

Nearly twenty minutes went by and the entryway to the inn thinned incredibly with only a few stragglers coming in. As time ticked by, they welcomed in many other familiar faces in the town. Mr. Garrison being one, then Greta, Mrs. Abbot, and the topper, Tom, and his prized "suggestion cards." Delia expected he'd bring such as if to help "improve" the inn with its "flaws," but his ongoing persistence to "perfect" the town was still baffling. Nonetheless, Delia held her composure and invited the obnoxious man in, already mumbling and filling out his cards over God knows what. In the end, Delia just reminded herself that Michelle had put the less than polished Greta next to Tom with the mayor seated very close by. That would be a form of payback in itself.

Checking the clock pinned on a nearby wall, Delia anxiously awaited for a few certain individuals to make their entrance. Bringing her coiled hand close to her chest the woman began to wonder where in the world Prof. Oak and Tracey were after promising they'd show up, and where Chad was for that matter...

With the sound of heavy panting, Delia and Ash spun to find at least _one _of the men she was hoping to see.

"Chad-" she started.

He appeared to be gathering himself as he adjusted his light summer shirt. "Sorry for running late, Delia," he apologized, cutting the woman off. Then out of nowhere, he winked and gestured with a pointed thumb behind his shoulder. "Had to pick up a special someone at the airport."

At this instance, his somewhat wiped out expression transformed into that of a mischievous grin which promptly befuddled Delia. Opening the door, Chad brought in a raven-haired woman the mother and son recognized immediately, both appearing utterly stupefied at their surprise visitor.

Eventually, Delia was the first to blurt out. "Zelda!"

"Aunt Zelda!" Ash followed.

Automatically, Zelda's smile widened. "Hey, you two!"

The invitation for an embrace was valid as Zelda opened her arms, the two each taking a side of her. They hugged briefly before tearing apart, then stood back with giant, excitable grins plastered on their faces.

"We're so happy you came!" Delia announced, still shaking off the amazement of her sister-in-law's arrival.

"Me too," Zelda giggled lightly. From there, her eyes bounced across the entrance. "The place looks absolutely gorgeous, Delia. Really it does!"

"You're being too kind," the auburn haired woman waved out of embarrassment.

She shook her head. "No I'm not. If anything, I haven't gushed enough. I'm sorry we haven't stayed in touch as often as we should," she began with lowered eyebrows. "But I think with me settling down _permanently _now... I'll definitely make sure to make time for you both."

Zelda was always a lovely specimen of a lady, but it wasn't until now did Delia believe she saw her sister-in-law honestly- merry. Her pale complexion was growing with such warmth that was so familiar to Delia; she had experienced such joy herself in a very similar point in her life. This only reminded her of how things hadn't always been easy for Zelda. She was the kind of timid spirit to desperately wish to please her parents, striving to be a perfect student in high school, graduated valedictorian, then was sent off to college without protest. Then during her college years at Cerulean's art university she had found her voice and calling. And now, after countless dates that ended in disappointment, she had finally, on a miraculous incident, found her ideal man. Everything was coming together for her. It was only recently that Zelda saw she had been somewhat closed off, and in the process, unintentionally neglected her loved ones.

Recognizing the guilt, Delia urged assurance with a gentle voice. "Please, don't feel like you have to explain yourself, Zelda. None of us has really been on top with staying in touch. But that's all in the past," she insisted with a bright smile. "We're all gathered here, and I'm just so happy you came! But if you don't mind me asking, did Bruno tag along by any chance?"

That question was not only nagging her but Ash as well. Once his mind registered his aunt's presence, the teenager prayed to see his soon-to-be uncle stroll in as well. He held himself back, though, to spare his eager self from embarrassment.

"He's caught up at the League because he's helping prep for the new Pokémon-Master-to-be," Zelda explained. "Bruno did want to come, though. To my surprise, he's pretty eager to meet_ everyone_ in the family."

That shocked Delia as well. Either Zelda hadn't explained her family dynamic and the members involved, or Bruno was too naïve to comprehend what family he was about to be a part of by law.

"I should have assumed he's working," Delia replied, feeling a little silly for not thinking such first. But then, she got a playful twinkle in her eye, and motioned towards Ash. "I know one young man in particular has been excited about the new master _and_ seeing Bruno."

Stiffening, Ash could feel himself blush. He chuckled weakly as he sunk into his shoulders. "Yeah, I'm pretty excited to see who it is."

"I wish I could spoil the news to you, Ash, but I don't know myself," Zelda said, giving a sympathetic smile to her nephew. "Bruno's been very secretive about it. For all I know, he doesn't even know himself!"

After that, no more conversation could be made of it. Not that anyone didn't have a worthwhile reply, but because of the man standing off to the side. With his hands shoved in his pockets, Chad politely cut in and drew his attention towards the ruckus in the dining hall. "I hate to break up this little reunion, but I think we better get our seats before your mom has a coronary," the man joked to Zelda, all in good humor.

And Zelda couldn't argue that.

Hurriedly, Delia escorted them. "Oh yes, I'm so sorry. Just ask one of our waiters over there and they'll help you."

"Thanks Delia. I look forward to talking with you both later."

And with that, Zelda gave one final smile and proceeded forward. The mother and son kept up their little smiles as they saw her and Chad walk away, both overcome with the excitement and surprise the night was bringing in so quickly. Their intensified feelings, however, could not match the boisterous laughter going on in the dining area.

As Zelda and Chad followed their waiter, the room was consumed with full tables and chatty guests. It was only until they reached Emily and Richard's table did there seem to be a dramatic shift in atmosphere. Nonetheless, Zelda's parents smiled upon her arrival.

"Hi everyone," she grinned.

"Hey, Em! Hey, Dicky!" Chad greeted with the infamous nicknames he had given them as he plopped down in his seat next to his wife.

Hearing the shorten version of her name and his overall lack of decorum, Emily gave Chad a sharp look. "I see you brought my daughter here in one piece," she remarked. "How deplorable was his driving?"

She was caught off guard as she adjusted herself. "The drive was fine," the dark haired woman answered carefully, flipping her long luxurious hair over her shoulder. "Though I think you ran a red light," she added to Chad with mild hesitance, sitting down in the other empty seat Annie left open for her.

"Not again!" Annie moaned, narrowing her eyebrows. "Chad, you already _have_ a ticket."

"Thanks for saying that in front of your parents, Ann. And in front of Harper too," the man hissed, gesturing towards the obviously already disapproving in-laws he was settled with and his son's girlfriend. He just only wished he received a similar meek smile from his in-laws as Harper bore.

"She didn't need to announce your lack of retaining your driver's E.D. class skills for us not to know," Emily soon rebutted. "The skid marks you left in our driveway are a big enough indicator. I swear to God you can still see them even with that new layer of cement!"

"Emily, please, not here," Richard protested calmly, already growing tired of the evening's squabbles.

"Oh, c'mon!" Chad groaned, ignoring the fact that they were in public. "That was like eighteen years ago-"

It was inevitable to think it would take time before a fight would commence. Feeling the strain and somewhat blame for starting the ludicrous debate, Zelda bit her lip and turned to her sister. "I'm sorry I said anything," she whispered.

Though Annie dismissed Zelda's remorse. "Don't be." Instead, she turned herself in her seat, and finally released an eager smile for the news she had been_ dying _to hear. "So, tell me about your hunky fiancée. And of - my God, is that a real amethyst?!"

It would take Zelda a good few minutes to pry Annie's tight grip and gawking expression away from the extravagant engagement ring on her finger. And even longer for her parents and Chad to stop making fools of themselves.

On the contrary, back in the entryway, it seemed the crowd had at last died out. Prof. Oak and Tracey were nowhere to be found, which was a disappointment to both. If anything, Delia supposed she could call the professor before the food was served. Perhaps there was an issue at the lab, a Pokémon possible sick or injured or- Suddenly, as if on cue, both mother and son heard the warm call of Tracey's voice and soon saw Prof. Oak from behind with another lingering figure. Swiveling on their feet, Ash and Delia met up with the guests they had been hoping to see. Delia was thrilled Prof. Oak came, not only because of his constant support and friendship, but because of the lingering thoughts in the back of her mind. To finally know the truth about him, where he was…

Though as a woman of business, she kept it all professional.

"This is one swell shindig you and Leah are hosting, Delia!" Sam was the first to declare, and was, again, one of the many amazed by all the work that had been put into the decorations.

"Everything looks great, Mrs. Ketchum," Tracey added kindly.

"Thank you, Professor, Tracey." Then her attention fell elsewhere. "And Dr. Strayer, I'm so glad you came."

The third person in this small party probably outdid the surprise of Zelda altogether. While they hadn't been in contact for a long time, Michael Strayer had been sent an invitation. After all, Delia had known the man since her high school days, and was indebted to him for his counseling with Ash before he started his journey.

Originally, though, the psychologist was working that very night, unable to attend the lavish party. However, with Sam's desperate and rather strange call, Michael made it a top priority to come and partake in the divine food and good company. Plus, he was actually a roommate of Sam and Richard's back in their college days at Celadon University; the three men going way back to the days of partying and studying. It was hard to imagine how fast time had passed and how, in a way, they had all grown apart to a degree... Nonetheless, it wasn't strange for Delia to see Michael in Sam's company, which was a decent enough cover up for the _real _reason he had appeared. To discuss those unimaginable particulars with his old friend and colleague, and figure out exactly what to do...

"It's my pleasure, Delia," he answered, shaking her hand. "The inn looks absolutely wonderful."

"Oh, you're being too kind," she blushed with a soft chortle. After that, she looked to her son for another time. "Ash, you remember Dr. Strayer, don't you?"

Ash blinked, recounting those days that had truly helped his young self. "Oh, yeah." Soon, he offered his hand willingly with a tiny smile. "Hey, Dr. Strayer. How've ya been?"

"I've been good, Ash. Thank you," Michael greeted in return, shaking hands once more. "My, I can't believe how you're already so grown up. It feels like just yesterday you were only this high!" he said astonished, raising his hand to the appropriate level of a ten year old's height.

"I feel like that all the time," Delia jumped in, placing a hand on her cheek as she gave her son a maternal side-glance. "Makes me think of those days when he was still small enough to ride in the seat of the grocery cart. Oh, he was just so darling-"

A streak of faint red graced Ash's cheeks as he growled, "_Mom_-"

"I'm sorry, pumpkin. But you're always gonna be my baby-"

"Okay, if you got a handle on welcoming guests, I think I'm going to go sit with Dani now!"

He may have matured in height and looks, but that certainly didn't stop Ash from escaping the horrors of his mother's innocent mortification. He knew she meant well, but Ash didn't need his mom to gush about such memories in front of two men he admired, plus his friend Tracey standing about. Twirling on his feet, the teenager speedily exited the entryway and dashed straight to the dining room.

Now feeling embarrassed by her son's behavior, Delia turned to the men and apologized. "I'm sorry about that."

"Oh no, don't be," Michael was the first to reply. "It's what I'd expect from, well- teenagers!"

A silent exchange and smile was given to them in return by Delia, who was just thankful for their understanding. Then, she continued the same formal procedure for a final time. "Thank you again for coming. I really hope you all enjoy the evening."

Prof. Oak nodded. "I'm sure we will."

Almost instantly, did three quick pairs of feet carry themselves over into the dining room with their waitress in the lead. In the back of the group, Tracey kept up with the men while they themselves dropped their courteous smiles and instead, exchanged a matched pair of serious looks.

"So I see Delia and Ash are truly unaware of all of- this," Michael remarked, unsure of what to properly call the predicament.

Sam frowned. "Of course they are. Do you think I'd lie about something like this, Michael?"

"It was just an observation, not an accusation," the psychologist replied evenly. "If we want to proceed with caution, I think telling Delia in the morning is the most logical course of action," he started, cutting to the chase. After all, Sam had been pestering him on what to do. "Then from there, we'll go straight to the police. But my God Sam, I still don't understand why you didn't make some kind of contact with law enforcement with the stakes at hand."

Being the one with a degree in psychology and, well, handling these personal human matters better, Michael found it best for him to break the news and allow Sam to elaborate. He himself was still in the midst of processing the shocking news that he had Sam relay the details _five_ times to him before any of it could sink in. None of it made sense, and confronting it was surely going to be a difficult task if he too found the entire matter too outlandish to even think about rationally. But Prof. Oak was awfully persistent about Jayce's situation. His desperation and helplessness was so evident in his voice alone, Michael didn't need to see his friend's face to understand the mania and distress he bore. If Michael could conclude anything with conviction, it was that Jayce was truly in deep trouble and the mention of the organization Team Rocket made that all the more definite. Surely, whatever Giovanni had threatened was something so serious that had forced both him and the professor to keep their lips sealed. Even if he still couldn't grasp their persistent silence...

However, when Sam finally told the first soul in nearly ten years- Michael nearly fell stunned and speechless that it took him several minutes before he could let out a croak. That entire evening they were on the phone; Sam answering Michael's questions, Michael dreaming up the best approach. Unfortunately, he couldn't find one. This wasn't a typical problem that could be resolved with a comfy couch, a box of Kleenexes, a listening ear, and sincere advice. This had to be his biggest undertaking yet. But given the dire need for his assistance, the psychologist was willing to step in and take charge of the both challenging and near dangerous job.

Furrowing his grey brows, the professor defended his silence. "You know as well as I do, Michael, the police would have just turned a deaf ear to Jayce and I. Especially then," he continued to argue with legitimate reason. "Little was known about Team Rocket then, and I doubt anyone was keeping tabs on _you know who_. Besides, whatever _he_ has planned I think only Jayce will be able to intervene."

That last part struck a chord within Michael, unsure of what to make of it. As of now, he was well aware of what had happened to Jayce that night he was forced to endure Madame Boss's wrath. Though even knowing the past and current circumstances, fathoming what her successor would do was still far too grueling to decipher.

To ease their boggled minds, their attentions were swept away once they were led to their table and their waitress in the midst of exiting. Sitting there was Brock, and he suddenly stopped the blonde waitress with a broad smile as he leaned back in his seat.

"You're lookin' as radiant as the setting sun," he complimented with too much gusto.

As he waited patiently for Prof. Oak and the others, he had been trying to get the young woman's attention the majority of the evening, only for her to walk away every time she brought something to the table. To his dismay, the young Pokémon doctor in training received nothing more but a disgusted scoff as she wandered off.

What a way to start an introduction.

Awkwardly, Sam adjusted his throat and glanced back at his addled friend. "Michael, this is uh- Brock. He's also helping us. Brock, this is Dr. Strayer."

"Pleased to meet you, Doctor," Brock greeted as he stood up and shook the doctor's hand. He had been informed of the man's coming and involvement thanks to Tracey during a phone call earlier that day.

"Same to you," Michael replied in a friendly tone. "Prof. Oak tells me you're training to be a Pokémon doctor. And apparently a love doctor too," the psychologist teased.

Wincing, Brock bit his lip. "Oh uh- the first part is true! That was just, uh-" He began to rub the back of his head with rosy cheeks. "She was just a girl I used to date." That cover-up did nothing, receiving both a raised brow from the professor _and_ Tracey. Feeling silly for his little fib, Brock's warmed cheeks intensified. "I mean, I _tried_ to date her..."

At this point, he hung his head in shame and looked downward at the table before mumbling, "They brought champagne over for you two."

It was Michael's turn to look at Sam.

What was coming ahead this night, the announcement and the characters involved- it was all going to be a very, _very _interesting outcome indeed.

* * *

The bright shining moon claimed the night sky. And the voices of Jay and Kelly claimed the house.

A good portion of the evening consisted of their back-and-forth debating. To the ears of Misty and Molly, words were unintelligible. They had spent most of their time outside with Drake, scoping the area for any possible Team Rocket agents lurking about. But as darkness fell, Drake insisted the girls venture back inside for safety. He assured them he would be fine on his own, having both Dragonite to survey the skies while his more than eager Gengar took to haunting the spooky tree lines. At his request, Misty was the first to head for the house. She appreciated the night for its calming and beautiful shimmers of the moon, but never did the gym leader care for the sinister impression her wild imagination led her to conceive.

Unfortunately, much peace wasn't found back in Kelly's residence. No voices were raised into definite hollers, however it was clear there was tension prowling about, prompting Misty to push Molly along and entertain her for the time being. She too was anxious for Suicune to appear, both for the answers they were all desperately seeking and to give Jay some stability in his quest for unraveling Giovanni's intentions.

Luckily for the worried Misty, it didn't take much to convince Molly to wander away from the men's private discussion. The wheat haired girl actually had a specific place on her mind she wished to explore, and pranced off innocently down the hall, bidding the older trainer to follow.

"C'mon Misty! C'mon!"

She followed by command, rounding the corner and traveling through the hall until they reached the door at the very end. Halting in her footsteps, Molly stood before the door while Misty remained a good few feet away. Her muscles tightened, a hand reaching out as she silently urged the young girl not to go near the doorknob.

"Molly," Misty began nervously, "I don't know if we should go in there-"

"Dr. Kelly said we could look around, 'member?!" Molly cut her off, reminding Misty of the man's earlier invitation. "I'm sure he won't mind."

_I doubt that,_ the redhead retorted inwardly.

Disregarding the gym leader's weariness, the young trainer proceeded to twist the knob and enter without a care. And though she still remained uneasy of their intrusion, Misty wandered into the premise awkwardly with a wiggling Azurill in her arms. If anything, she could keep an eye on Molly and prevent her from unintentionally getting in the middle of private findings. Noticing her Pokémon's endless squirming, Misty gently settled the cheery blue mouse to the floor and allowed her to explore the foreign surroundings. As for Misty herself, she preferred to keep her arms folded and tight at her sides. Unsure what to do, nervous sea-green eyes watched Molly scout across the bookshelves. Kelly appeared to be a very kind, tolerant, and soft-spoken man, hardly stirring with agitation at Molly's bubbly and boisterous disposition. He didn't seem like the type of person to keep secrets, nor did his house leave her with an odd sensation compared to when she originally strolled in. However, for some unexplainable reason, Misty felt that this room- this study- in particular, did not capture the welcoming warmth as the rest of the dwelling did.

On her tiptoes, Molly's right index finger pressed itself against the bindings of the evenly lined books and scooted down the row in the middle of the shelving unit. It was only towards the end did her finger stop moving and soon, her entire hand reached in to pull out a book. A small wince was caught in the back of Misty's throat, though it failed to produce words as she anxiously observed the book fully land into Molly's grasp. She appeared unaware of the gym leader's apprehension, widely staring at the cover with curious eyes before opening the book.

Silently with a faint smile, she flipped through a couple of pages, pausing before turning to the next. Then, she glanced up at Misty. "The pictures in here look similar to the book Papa used to show me," she said, captured by the artistic interpretation and beautiful colors.

Misty cocked an eyebrow. "The one about Entei?" she deduced.

The preteen nodded. "Hmhm. Only this book focuses on all three legendary beasts. See?"

Delicate hands clamped each side of the book, vividly showing Misty the pages Molly was currently examining. Across two pages captured a whimsical display of stormy clouds, a disturbed volcano, and a flowing crystal river. Each setting stood on its own, yet blended together with each beast in its designated area, as if staking their claim. Steadily, the trainer went as far as to hand the gym leader the book, allowing her a more in-depth look as she picked up another book.

"This just has text in it," Molly pouted, then grabbed another. Again, she pursed her lips at the large words and complex sentence structures. "And so does this one. Why does that one have only pictures?"

While she wasn't so naïve and juvenile, Misty could see the appeal in the eye-capturing illustrations. They were absolutely breathtaking. However, their form wasn't the only reason she found herself so compelled to continue her exploration. Turning another page, she was entranced by the implied narrative the book was carrying through images. From what she gathered, the gym leader assumed these pages were filled with an old folklore, one in which she was unaware of. There was neither a title nor date of publication to support the book's creation, as if it was personally made by someone- _for_ someone...

Edges of the front and back cover were worn, minor scrapes and tatters across the surface. Nonetheless, the integrity of the interior was not damaged. As Misty became submersed in the pictures, she began to make undeniable connections between the legendary beasts. Their showcased powers seemed to embody the three tragic forms of destruction upon the Tin Tower: lightning, then fire, then the downpour of rain. The background consisted of dark clouds loomed over the page as if introducing the foreshadowing disaster ahead.

Lightning. Fire. Rain. A shimmer of something among the pitch black chaos-

And then what?

Too much befuddlement had caused the start of a wicked headache to claim her mind. There was an answer screaming to be told, and yet, Misty had difficulty grasping the hints to the conclusion. The elements, the legendary beasts themselves appeared to be the supposed key to the ultimate intervention. That shimmer in the dark... Flipping another page, a surprising discovery was made. Grim details spoke of an explosion, everything wiped away with casts of black and red; the lightning, the fire, the rain all becoming an oblivion, as if all solid foundation had been permanently erased by an overpowering reign of darkness. All except for that shimmer and the silhouette of something from behind it, and something holding it...

The next page was completely blank. Nothing but white. As if a clean slate.

Breaking Misty's concentration, the window shutters to the study suddenly flew open in a profound gust. Repeatedly they slammed against the inside of the room, the intense winds growing stronger as they almost turned into a deafening howl to the girls' ears. In turn, sea-green eyes widened only for an instance before closing and ducking from the possible fragments of branches flying in. Red and wheat colored hair whipped crazily with arms cast high for protection. The encounter of incredibly powerful gusts turned out to be brief, but surely left both girls shell-shocked.

Rising from her defensive position, Molly's eyelashes batted amazingly against her dilated blue eyes. "Could it be?" she started in astonishment. Then, the volume of her voice intensified greatly. "Guys, it's happening! It's happening! The North Wind is here!"

From there, she bounded excitingly out of the room, leaving Misty alone and stiff. Rejoicing wasn't an action she was wishing to display. Something was far too concerning for the gym leader to dismiss as bubbling worries of over-dramatic frets. Deep inside, her bones shook with an indescribable tingle.

As the pages turned uncontrollably in the wind, Misty soon discovered a source to the book's existence. A loose paper, folded and tucked in for safekeeping, was revealed to her. Placing the book underneath her right arm, the redhead carefully unfolded the paper. It was a document. A request to create the book to visually explain the details and the ending result of a written log found years ago-

The layout for _Project H_.

Aghast, Misty felt her pumping heart being caught in her throat.

Trouble was brewing.

* * *

**A/N Count.: **More twists and turns! What is ahead for our heroes? Is Gary going to tell Ash the truth? And what is Kelly's true identity? Find out in the next chapter! From here, the next couple of chapters are going to get much darker in several respects for everyone. We are definitely in for some action and ongoing twists not only for Jay and his crew, but for Team Rocket and Ash and the others as well. Nothing is going to be smooth sailing from here!

Thank you all for reading! :)


	22. Your Destiny is Forlorn

**Author's Note: **Hello my readers! Sincerest apologies for taking so long to post this new installment. I don't have any good excuses besides life and its natural way of filling up me and my beta reader's time. As of late I've been in the midst of opening an Etsy shop as well as getting back into the flow of school and all its demands. Spring break went by waaay too fast as did March as a whole. Nonetheless, I've been working away on chapter 23. :)

But now, we are AT LAST at the big crescendo of the story (besides well, the ending of course). This chapter and the next two are going to be INTENSE. I must say though that the chapter's content itself was A LOT of work to construct as I put a fair amount of thought and consideration into it. Considering there's a lack of in-depth information regarding Pokemon and its legendaries' backgrounds, it was a little challenging to piece original concepts with canon facts. That alone took me a while to put together as well as getting my beta's reader stamp of approval on the chapter. Nevertheless, with the help of my sister, it was fun to construct new ideas in the fantasy relam that Pokemon brings!

I truly truly hope you all enjoy this chapter and thank you for your continual patience and support! Now without further ado, let us proceed forward!

**DISCLAIMER: **_Pokémon_ belongs to Satoshi Tajiri. My oc's and these ongoing plot twists belong to me. ;p

* * *

**Sunlight's Return**

**Chapter 22**

_"Your Destiny is Forlorn"_

Somehow, the blissful euphoria of the party was enough to keep Ash's mind off Gary.

It was only on occasion that Ash eyed him, and when he did, it was a glance caught and understood by his ex-rival. Turning in his seat countless times, however, would be too noticeable and strange by his family's standards, so Ash restrained himself to keep his gaze forward. He was seated with Dani on his right and Delia on his left. Around the rest of the table were his grandparents and Ophelia, the small Parker clan nestled together with other close relatives nearby. Despite the lack of, dare to be brought up, warm soup for Ernest's younger brother Leo, he and Sunshine were content with their sitting arrangement much like many of the guests. Regarding her in-laws, Delia hadn't heard a disgruntle peep at the prestigious Ketchums much to her delight. Needless to say, all was going as smoothly as one hoped.

As the early evening continued to unfold, it was clear how beautifully everything came together. With laughter and abundant smiles, one could see how wonderful of a time the guests were having, and Delia and Leah could have sworn that Michelle's dishes were the main reason for everyone's merriment. In the kitchen, there wasn't a single incident of discontent either. There hadn't been any incidents of drops of blood from a sharp knife, an accidental bludgeon to the head by a frying pan, or a burnt foot thanks to a sauce. Evidently, Michelle was at her best that night, all over the place as always, but not too all over the place to the point where a paramedic was needed.

Yes, from appetizers to the main course, it seemed the crowd's joy became more and more infectious, settling the workers of the inn with immense relief. And it gave Michelle and Leah a chance to interrupt and make a speech before the over-the-top array of desserts were to be served. Coming forward, the pair stood at the front of the dining hall, capturing everyone's undivided attention with a polite call for listening ears.

Once the voices in the throng died out completely, Leah was the first to speak. "Before we bring out the dessert cart," she began, "Michelle and I would like to thank all of you for coming and being a part of this. It means more than we can express. This night is ultimately for us to pay our respects to the incredible woman who opened this place that many of us call home. Fifty-five years ago, my mother, Hazel Applebaum, built this inn, not for tourism purposes, but to bring the community together. She was a lover of many things: nature, cooking, gardening, designing, but most importantly, she loved this little town and all the people in it. And so, she wanted to create a safe haven in which she could incorporate all her loves and share them with the town.

"My father, Arthur, constructed this building by his own hands, and my mother was right beside him as every beam was securely fastened. They were the kind of couple who took pride in their work, who valued the differences they could make, not for themselves, but for others. My parents wanted to give people in town jobs, wanted me to have a place I could always go to for work. The _Butterfree Inn_ has been a place full of not only opportunities, but wonderful memories. I remember making my first pie-crust here with my mom, to being appointed assistant manager under her, and then, to the most gracious honor, Michelle and I taking on the job as owners."

With such memorable words produced, there was great warmth brought up from inside all of those who remembered the times of the inn's first opening. Of course, the Parker clan was the most affected, Delia and Ophelia sharing a glance as if both silently reminiscing their own childhood memories when their grandmother was alive. They could see how emotional their mother was becoming through her eyes while discussing the remembrance of Hazel, though as expected, Leah held it together like a professional. As bittersweet as it was just to talk about their grandmother, let alone announce her achievements to the town, Delia and Ophelia knew how much their mom wished to honor her and to give her rightful credit.

Soon after, it was then that Michelle stepped in and declared her half of the speech. "I, myself, was just a young woman leaving the big city of Saffron and all its temperamental chefs for a quainter, but nevertheless worthwhile, restaurant to work in. I had no idea what this place called Pallet was like, until I was instantly confronted with its many- eccentric characters." As predicted, short chortles commenced. Michelle herself couldn't help but grin as she carried on. "Thankfully, I fit right in! I didn't think so, though, going into my interview. I was beyond terrified; my palms were sweaty and I rattled on for at least a half an hour about all the sauces I knew how to make and what I could use for substitutes... It was only when Hazel's small smile broke out and told me I was gonna be fine that I- I realized I wouldn't pass out."

Again, faint laughs erupted, but not too distractive to detract from the softening in the chef's eyes and tone. The feeling of thankfulness and happiness bursting from within as she struggled not to have her voice crack under the flashing of memories.

"But in all honesty, when she gave me a job, I really felt like this place was going to be a part of me for a long time. And now, here we all are!" Michelle exclaimed enthusiastically. "It's been an extraordinary journey, and we have all of you to thank for supporting Hazel and the rest us, every step of the way."

A generous array of clapping commenced instantly with continual smiles, most thinking that was the end of the speech. Delia herself knew that it was finished, having read through the little sentiment Michelle and Leah typed out just to make sure their thoughts were cohesive. However, the start of Leah's voice carrying on confused Delia for a second. Nonetheless, she adjusted herself in her chair and listened. She was aware how trying it was to cut the speech short when the women originally wrote it out. Perhaps, the woman thought, the pair couldn't help but include these last few lines in.

"I think," Leah started again once the clapping ceased, "because of our constant teamwork, we've, in a way, formed this little family unit. Family is what started this business and has carried it through to this day. And Michelle and I couldn't have done this without our amazing and diligent staff, and of course, our family by blood. My dedicated husband, my two beautiful daughters, and my loving grandchildren have been true blessings despite the hardships we've faced."

With focus directed on them, Ash could feel the eyes of the guests lurk over to his family's table. He felt himself release a sheepish smile at their stares and his grandmother's innocent gushing of the appreciation she had for them. As selfish as it sounded, he just hoped Gary wouldn't take advantage of the kind words and use them against him as another form of taunting. The attention, to his relief, was swiftly channeled solely to his mother, which seemed to surprise both Ash himself and Delia.

"But of course, in a business aspect, my youngest, Delia, our executive manager, is truly the force that has made this inn what it's been for nearly the last ten years. Since she was old enough to walk, Delia's always wanted to be a part of this. From the start of picking dandelions out in the lawn to incorporate them into our flower arrangements, to getting herself covered in flour in an attempt to make any kind of dessert she could get her hands on- she's done her best to lend all the support she could to this inn. And because of your dedication and love, Michelle and I," she said, eagerly, sharing a quick glance with the chef, "have decided to make you the official new owner of the _Butterfree Inn_."

In that very moment, the genuine motherly and daughterly smile the women exchanged was extinguished by Delia's separating lips. She was caught off-guard completely, for what was an attentive gaze of listening turned into that of a frozen face of pure astonishment. The gasps across the room and the soon deafening applause could not match the intense racing in her chest and the whitening of her cheeks.

Did she hear that correctly? Had Michelle and her mother appointed _her _the new owner of the inn? Just like that? Without a second thought?

Words could not describe how stupefied Delia was. Her mouth was now agape, a hand gently pressed over it with wide chestnut eyes as she looked to her sister and father for a rational explanation. In return, the pair immediately joined in with the clapping and large smiles, both nodding eagerly to confirm the undeniably overwhelming announcement. This only furthered Delia's amazed expression, now glancing to her son for an explanation, though he too was just as astonished as she was. Was their entire family aware of Leah and Michelle's retirement? Even Dani was grinning with an all-knowing eye, quickly making the mother and son assume this was run by everyone, and so, approved.

"Come up here!"

With hurried excitement, Michelle coaxed both Delia and Ash to come forward, causing the pair to nearly stumble out of their chairs from the exhilaration of the declaration. Together, they eventually stood by Michelle and Leah, the women prompting Delia to stand ahead of all of them, as if to proclaim her reply. It was evident how lost for words the woman was, gazing back and forth between her friend and mother, then settling on Ash with Pikachu perched on his shoulder. As if the declaration became infectious, Ash too soon broke out into a big grin and silently insisted for his mom to say _something _with a motion of his head.

Now turning her focus to the quieting congregation, Delia attempted to center her rattled mind. "I- I don't know what to say!" she blurted. "I feel like I should have had a speech ready- like for an Oscar or something!"

The faint laughs she received seemed to loosen up the dumbfounded woman, now allowing a grin to break free. "I'm- lost for words. This is a huge honor, and I didn't expect it at all," she continued, glancing back between her mother and Michelle. "I-I can't begin to say... how I feel so humble and grateful for-for having the most amazing family I could ever ask for. We've truly been blessed."

An arm reached out to gingerly pull Ash in for a side hug, of which he wasn't reluctant. He blushed lightly out of embarrassment, but his teenage insecurities could not overshadow the tears beginning to swell in his mom's eyes. There were no words required for him to know how sincerely grateful and honored Delia felt at that very moment. Not to mention how surprised, too! Ash also was caught off-guard, his baffled face a perfect match to Delia's. He had no idea Michelle and Leah planned to make this life-changing move, let alone come to the conclusion of retirement! It was a good kind of surprise though- one that was indeed astounding, but full of new exciting possibilities to come.

Raising her delicate hand, Delia carefully wiped away the cascading tears from under her eyes. She then led Ash in for a tighter hug before gazing to her mom and Michelle with a serious yet appreciative gaze. Still, she couldn't believe this was happening. Delia knew she was far from perfect, having made so many mistakes in life, nearly disappointing her parents, her father in particular, for being so headstrong at such a young age… A part her felt like she was undeserving of their forgiveness and aid. But now looking at where she was, especially with the young smiling man standing beside her-

Perhaps all her decisions weren't total mistakes.

"Michelle, Mom," the woman started strongly, "I promise to run this inn with all the good intentions as Grandma did."

Now it was the women's turn to get teary eyed. And in that instant, they, like Ash, knew words of confirmation weren't needed to know how sincere Delia's pledge was.

* * *

Lighting. Fire. Rain. Lighting. Fire. Rain. Lighting. Fire. Rain-

"You okay?"

What did it mean?

Instantly, Misty's head snapped up and met the curious eyes of Molly against the darkening sky. At the abrupt intrusion of the North Wind, Misty hardly got a word in, nor could muster the strength to even croak. As fast as the gust came, Jay dashed out of the house with Kelly ahead to the hopefully awaiting Suicune. Drake himself barely had an exchange with his fixated brother. The awfully speedy conversation consisted of Drake explaining he'd watch the outside monitors and keep his eyes peeled for Team Rocket while Jay was away. And here she was, still clutching the foreboding book, with no one's acknowledgement of its presence. Her palm was sweaty against the leather binding, sliding repeatedly as she crouched down in the grass with Drake and Molly beside her. Completely unaware...

Away in the haunting tree line of nothing but soon to be black.

Faint streaks of a fading sun just kissed the edges of the area, the taunting reminder that the moon was soon to rise. Closing her eyes, the gym leader wanted to feel safe. She had every right to be scared out of her wits, yet acknowledged she had protection abounding. Her Pokémon were an obvious mentioning (including everyone else's) and by physicality, Drake was a contender to put up a good fight. And so was Mr. Ketchum, but he had vanished into the forest, as if unknowingly wandering into his own grave. Gazing ahead at the path the men took, Misty became overwhelmed with heated anxiety. She thought about being out in the wilderness, their vulnerable state, and what in the shadows could take advantage of it at any given moment. If lightning, fire, or rain would dare to make an appearance.

An answer finally came to her.

"Y-yeah..." She shook her head. "No."

As expected, Molly returned the redhead with a rather quizzical expression. There was no exchange to be made of it, though, as Misty bypassed the look the girl was giving to her and focused solely on a submersed Drake.

"Drake?" Misty started slowly. She could feel her bones quake within.

"Hmm?" he answered, distracted by the monitors.

"I think..." Her eyes dashed to the side. "I think you need to know something."

This caught his attention.

Perking up, the islander gave her a peculiar look. "What is it?"

Patiently, he watched Misty turn to the side to reveal the object in her possession. "This," she said.

Drake frowned at the sight of the open book. He was unaware of its origin, and to baffle him even further, Molly appeared to know of the book as well.

"You brought that out with you?" the wheat haired girl said more so than asked. Evidently, she had been too consumed in the excitement to take note of Misty's clutch marks on the book.

Taking charge, Drake finally released the book from Misty's grasp, giving his eyes a full visual of the page in which she wanted him to see. Just as she predicted, the islander was instantly stupefied by the illustrations before him. A deepening crease of his brow stiffened with befuddlement as he tried to wrap his mind around Misty's sudden reveal. Repeatedly, he flipped through the pages, pausing between each with a further furrowing of his eyebrows.

What felt like a long strand of silence claimed the air, until Drake darted his head up. "Where did you find this?"

"In Kelly's study," Misty explained. While keeping this to herself was brief, it was relieving for the girl to finally announce of the book's existence and whereabouts. "The first few pages just seem to be about the origin of the legendary beasts and Ho-Oh, but then... I can't exactly say what it is, but I think those specific illustrations are supposed to explain a prophecy of some sort. Like a folklore. And... I think Kelly made it."

Molly was the first to gape at this startling accusation. "What?!"

"Why would you say that?" Drake asked, his voice pricked with anxiety.

"I should have looked at that book more closely," the wheat haired girl soon mumbled, though her words went unnoticed to her companions.

"Because in the back-" The motion of her hand caused Drake to immediately flip hurriedly to the very back. Then, Misty watched Drake's blue eyes widen noticeably in shock. "There's a piece of paper and it reads like a formal request to make the book...for _Project H_."

If Drake's eyes could grow to an unsightly proportion, they would have popped right out of his eye-sockets. A deep hitch of a raspy gasp was caught in the back of his throat, reading over the words that only confirmed the commencing of an unforeseen nightmare. The drawings foreshadowed a great demise with the combination of the legendary beasts' greatest powers, and that muted figure in the back contorted with the glow only furthered to baffle the man. Then he was stumped by the blank page. Wasn't there supposed to be some hideous world to come of this ruination, something only Giovanni would find glorious? Had the artist rendering these disturbing illustrations forgotten to include the final part? Then again, neither Drake nor the others had exactly figured out the criminal's motives, had they?

So, the result had to be something completely unexpected.

Hoping to shed some light, Misty spoke up again. She had a haunting hunch in the back of her mind. "I can't figure out what those pictures mean, but it almost feels like the legendary beasts are needed to create destruction. As if to erase..."

"Everything," Drake finished solemnly.

As she had sat there in the falling of night, the redhead was starting to have similar ideas. She hadn't formed any concrete thoughts until Drake said it right then and there. If Giovanni wished to destroy everything- what benefits could that bring for him? The world they knew would be wiped away completely, nothing left for the villain to grasp and bend to his own contorted will... Not only that, but Misty couldn't even begin to comprehend how the legendary beasts and Ho-Oh could set this plausible disaster in motion. Unless a resurrection would follow...

Eventually, Misty nodded hesitantly. "I don't know what Giovanni could possibly gain from that, and where exactly Ho-Oh and Mr. Ketchum fit into the equation. Or the feather-"

"So are you also suggesting that Kelly wrote this out for Team Rocket? That he's working _with_ them?" the islander insinuated, but even he was rather gobsmacked over the allegation.

"Or he_ did_. I can't say for certain," replied the uneasy redhead. "But it seems like it. Why else would he know so much about Mr. Ketchum and have this book? Nothing else adds up but this explanation."

As horrible as it was to conceive as a living, breathing possibility, it was evident that the others were beginning to wonder that too.

"She makes a point," Molly suddenly agreed, glancing back between the two. "Dr. Kelly acted as if he had the information Mr. Ketchum was looking for... But maybe he's working against them, and that's why he found it is necessary to find Mr. Ketchum! He did say he wanted to help, after all."

Staying hopeful under such muddy and suspicious circumstances sounded all well and good, but both Misty and Drake realized how foolish it would be to think their minds were simply overreacting. This book was cold, hard evidence that something dangerous was at play. That Jay had every right to be aloof and wary. An omen that had implied the soon to come downfall of-

Jay himself.

Drake resisted the urge to snort. _Unless that was all a front. _

This was a new revelation he was not expecting. Being bombarded with such a startling development made the on-goings all the more difficult to decipher and process. Such speculations of Kelly's assumed flawed character caused Drake's heart to be plagued with guilt. He shouldn't have dismissed Jay's outwardly leery notions as heightened anxiety to his earlier spat with Sam. That Kelly's words were genial, even though it was peculiar how distant and secretive he had been... Perhaps, in an ideal setting, he had been searching for Jay. A Pokémon researcher only looking out for humanity, to find the one to help stop Team Rocket before their menacing antics triumphed...

But this damn document. This demand by Giovanni himself, entailing the imperative components to be visualized-

_Kelly... He's been lying to us? No- He seemed so... _

_That bastard. _

With a shake of his head, Drake got up and slammed the book shut. "I have to find Jay," he declared. "Kelly could be luring him to Team Rocket."

After that, he rose quickly and without giving the girls a second glance, the man tracked back to the house. Inside, his heart and head were consumed with the sickening feeling of dread. Jay had his Pokémon with him, and Drake knew without a doubt that his older brother had a handgun strapped to his 'belt as well. On more than one occasion Jay had proven to hold his own, his near callous tactics of taking out agents giving Drake the chills. Still, like the caring brother he was, Drake was concerned of what might happen to Jay. Or what _could_ be happening. Without a second thought, Drake made up his mind and took action.

From behind, Misty and Molly followed Drake inside the house, watching him speedily reach for his traveling luggage as he began to gather a small collection of necessary materials. Besides his pokeballs, he fastened a flashlight to his 'belt, also carrying his cellphone and- a gun. As if it had grown sporadically, a heavy lump was caught in Misty's throat as she observed Drake load the intimidating weapon so naturally and place it about his waist. The gun's presence alone reminded her of the stakes at hand, and with that, her mind raced with foreboding terror.

Doing her best, the gym leader tried to mask it. However, she couldn't resist belting out to Drake before he dashed off to go face God knows what. "How do you know where to go?" Misty questioned abruptly.

Drake adjusted his twisted pokebelt and looked to her. "I don't. But Kelly said they were heading to a small lake nearby, and my Pokémon can pick up on Jay's scent. You girls stay here and keep Gengar with you. Let _me_ find Jay. Then, we'll come back for you both and get the hell out of here."

At this point, it was evident there was no way to sway Drake away from the impending danger. His drive to seek and protect his brother from harm was his entire motivation, its existence beyond blatant even behind his cool, firm voice. If anyone had a clear idea of what Team Rocket was capable of besides Jay himself, it was Drake. He had probably heard a tragic dose of his older brother's less than fortunate encounters with the criminals. Believing this furthered to both justify and intensify Misty's growing worries.

For a moment, when she thought he was going to take off, Drake instead paused. Then, he swiveled on his feet and looked back at them. "You have your pokebelts on you, right?" he double-checked.

Misty nodded, eyebrows lowered. "Yes. But Drake, what if-"

"I've got the rest of my Pokémon," the islander cut her off, his mind going a hundred miles an hour. "At the first sign of trouble I'd prefer for you both to go hide, but if you can't...be prepared with your Pokémon. Gengar's a tough battler. Fighting at night is his specialty."

That went without saying. Leaving Gengar with the girls, however, was just another indicator to Misty that the conflicts Jay had been barely avoiding were finally about to collide. Drake was taking every precaution necessary; the gun, insisting for her and Molly to stay and hide, to use Gengar's ghost abilities to ensure their protection... But what did that mean for him and Jay? They were impeccably strong trainers, strong people in general. Throughout their years, they had been confronted with their own personal struggles and life-threatening obstacles. But could they handle this? Could Drake reach his brother in time? And if their suspicions were correct, where was Team Rocket hiding? Had Kelly truly been planning cornering Jay along with Suicune, too? It appeared that the legendary beasts were necessary in that folklore, and if those pictures were intended to recreate the possible happenings if_ Project H_ ever succeeded...

Misty couldn't ponder over the matter too heavily. She was already having difficulty keeping her rampaging fears to herself, desperately wanting to coerce Drake and permit her to tag along. She wasn't the kind of girl to stand back and watch on the sidelines. Misty preferred to take action, especially when knowing someone she cared about could be shielded from impending hazards ahead with her assistance. Over the years, she had grown as a trainer, fully believing she deserved the title of Cerulean's gym leader as long as she gave as much energy and passion as her Pokémon did. Plus, having two elite trainers was better than just one taking on Team Rocket and their unpredictable tricks alone. Tragically, to her dismay, Misty ultimately knew where her place was in this instance and that arguing with Drake would only set him back further in locating Jay.

If God forbid she had to defend herself and Molly, the redhead did have Gyarados. The massive water-type was her most powerful Pokémon, which Misty was sure would take out any sort of threat that dared to slither into their corridors. Molly also had mentioned having a very ferocious Ursaring that was a danger tangling with. Not to mention the other obvious five Pokémon each trainer had, making it an even twelve count of battlers plus the addition of Gengar...

In the worst-case scenario, the girls were prepped to fight any menacing forces that persisted in physical harm. Still, with how rapidly everything was beginning to spiral downward, it was challenging for the gym leader to keep her head on straight. To not help but fret over Jay's safety, especially being in the emotionally distressed state the man was submersed in...

They appeared to reach a silent agreement of some sort, Drake giving them one last nod before signaling his departure. Suddenly, though, as his fingers reached for the front door's doorknob, his name was called out.

"Please, Drake," Misty beseeched gravely, clutching a coiled fist to her pounding chest. "...be careful."

He nodded again. "I will. And I _will_ find Jay, rest assured."

* * *

Delia didn't know where to begin.

Almost instantly as the desserts were served, people left their seats to congratulate the woman on her new position. One after another, familiar faces greeted her with firm handshakes and words of praise, hardly giving Delia time to settle in and speak with her mother. From Zelda, to Annie and Chad, to Prof. Oak and Dr. Strayer, to fellow business owners and to the Mayor himself, Delia was immensely honored to receive such genuine words of kindness. Even Tom was gracious enough to shake her hand and welcome her into the business community. Unsurprisingly, though, he promptly gave her a slew of filled-out suggestion cards he had sufficiently completed, as well as informing her she'd have to follow the regulations of Pallet's business association. Half of his rambling regarding his bizarre rules went unheard, though, for Delia was still rather stunned by the initial shock. She didn't feel the urge to become annoyed by Tom or his asinine terms as she wore a silly, bewildered grin.

Everything was far too perfect to allow any animosity to enter.

Eventually, Delia was able to escape the overwhelming adulations and at last speak with her family. Owning the inn was a gigantic feat in her life, one in which she didn't know where to begin nor thank enough to be granted with such a glorious opportunity. As appreciative as Delia was, this was an immense change that needed serious addressing, and she wanted to make sure this was _exactly _what Leah and Michelle wanted.

To her waning patience, however, the woman was confronted with, yet again, another round of congratulations and hugs by her own blood. Ophelia was the first to congratulate her, arms open as she gave her sister a short hug.

"Congrats, sis," she said with a smile.

"Yeah, baby," Ernest cut in, "you deserve this."

Their father-daughter embrace broke afterwards, Delia backing up slightly with an almost teary grin as she looked upon her sister and father. "Thank you both so much," she gushed. "But I-I still can't believe this is actually happening!" she exclaimed in honest disbelief. "You all were keeping this a surprise?"

Leah nodded. "And Dani, too," she noted with a wink, which Dani playfully shot back at her astonished aunt. "We wanted it to be a surprise for you and Ash. And what better way to commemorate a new owner of the inn than on this night! However, it was more difficult for _some _to keep this a surprise."

The obvious eyeing led to that of an overly bubbly Michelle, grinning sheepishly as she knew her big mouth had its own struggles in withholding the joyous announcement. "There were at least _seven _times I nearly blurted it to you," the chef confessed. "And three of those times I accidentally almost hurt myself in the process."

A half-laugh escaped Delia's mouth until she remembered those various occasions in which Michelle nearly caused physical harm in the last couple of months. The replaying of a big slit down the front of her smock thanks to a drop of a knife ended the innocent chuckles instantly. Yes, Michelle's less than tactful approach at keeping secrets did not coincide well with her natural klutzy behavior. Thank God it was _only_ the smock that earned a clean slice!

Delia sweat-dropped after recalling such. "Well, besides those unfortunate repercussions, I really am just so-"

"We know, honey," Leah assured, cutting her off.

Leah and Michelle had originally run the proposal by Ernest and Ophelia, who both felt it was a splendid idea. As of late, Ernest had wanted Leah to slow down and at last do something for herself. While the inn had always been a positive aspect of her life, her husband wished to see his wife not work herself to the bone, and finish various personal projects she had laid aside for the interest of her children and the inn. Not only that, but Leah had inherited underlining health issues from her mother, which concerned both Ernest and the girls even further. Nevertheless, Leah had been healthy as a horse as of late, which only propelled both Ernest and Michelle, especially, to insist for her to finally savor life at her own leisure.

It was then that they all agreed that Delia would be the most befitting choice to fill in the shoes of her mother. Ophelia was already an accomplished on-call nurse for accidents at Viridian City's Pokémon Center, and she too agreed that it was time for her little sister's efforts to pay off. So it was to be a big surprise for Delia. All keeping their lips tightly sealed until the designated night, one that was going more merrily than they had dreamed.

Delia herself still couldn't wrap her head around everything. Especially with that impending question riding the back of her head. Looking to her mother and Michelle, she finally asked it. "So...what does this mean for you guys?"

"Your mom and I have been talking lately, and we thought it was the right time to retire," Michelle explained for the both of them. "At least for her. I mean, we're both vanquishing our ownership over to you, that's a given. But as for me, I'm so tied to that kitchen I'll probably die in it!"

It was comforting to hear she wouldn't be completely left on her own, though Delia didn't believe her mom and Michelle would simply make their grand exit on the spot. And it was both positive and relieving to a point to hear Michelle would be sticking around. Once Delia thought about it, Michelle not wanting to part with her precious stove and pans wasn't much a revelation. Still, the change would leave a little emptiness in the inn she had gotten so accustomed to knowing. Over the years, Delia had cherished working side by side with the successful women so much that it would feel unnatural if one of them suddenly decided to leave.

"Plus," Michelle continued, "the inn has never run better under anyone's care-"

"That's not true," Delia disagreed.

"No, it is," Leah countered warmly. "Delia, you've made this place just as great as Grandma did. You've been the executive manager for so long it's time for you to get a new position. Besides, since Ash is older now and out traveling, we thought this would be the perfect opportunity for you to- finally do something you love. And I know Grandma's smiling down at us right now, wanting the exact same thing."

The gentle gesture of motherly hands over hers warmed Delia's heart. There was no describing how incredibly fortunate she felt at that very moment. In her own eyes, it was not her that deserved the praise. It was that of Delia's family, who had been nothing but generous during her struggles throughout life.

Pausing, Delia's gaze fell to the side, resisting the urge of tears to stream down her cheeks. Then, she gazed back at the women with cloudy eyes. "I- I do love this place," the woman breathed.

Leah smiled once more. "That goes without saying. Now don't worry about a thing. We aren't going to just up and abandon you."

"We're gonna run down everything with you before your mom leaves," Michelle added.

In return, Delia nodded as if she understood, though the slight hesitation inside her manifested across her face. "Are you sure this is what you want though, Mom?" she double-checked carefully. "I don't want you to feel like you have to push yourself out to make room for me-"

"No, sweetie, this _is_ what I want," she assured firmly. "I've had my time in the business world. Now it's your turn to shine. And, well, with my own health problems and inevitably meeting retirement age- I think it's best for me to enjoy the rest of life doing other things. I'm sure your father will be _thrilled_ I'll be home to make him sandwiches."

"You know I will!" Ernest chimed in from behind.

Cranking her neck, Delia caught sight of her father raising a half-filled wine glass and couldn't help but grin. Steadily, her eyes soon led to her son beside her, who had hardly made a peep since his mother's bombardment with guests.

"And what do you think of this?" she questioned with a light beam.

What did he think? Ash glanced to Pikachu, who was resting on his shoulder. They both smiled gently. The answer was simple. "I think things couldn't get any better than this."

"Pika, Pika!" the yellow mouse chimed in.

Actually, he could think of one _other _thing that would make this night heaven on earth... But he wasn't going to think of that. Not at this moment.

For the Parker family, things couldn't be more sublime than they already were. There wasn't one thing to complain about, and the welcoming of new changes couldn't be any more thrilling.

It was because of that that a particular waiter in disguise felt rather appalled with himself.

"Oh Jessie, can't you see?" James whimpered, as they finished serving with the dessert cart. "This has now made things worse!"

She cocked a brow, knowing what he was referring to. "How so? This in no way affects the kidnapping."

True. But James saw how significant a night this was for Delia and her family, and how he and the rest of the Team Rocket recruits were about to tarnish it in the most horrifying way possible. That couldn't go unrecognized.

Adjusting his throat, he tried to speak up. "No, but-"

"Quit letting your conscience get to you," Jessie hurriedly dismissed, rolling her eyes. After that, she brought a finger delicately to her ear where the hidden earphone was secured for her to communicate to Meowth. The evening was at last winding down, and being in charge of keeping the time, Jessie was to give the SWAT team the signal of when to move in.

"Meowth, are you there?"

"I'm here, Jessie," he replied against the crackling microphone. The dang thing was difficult to handle with his furry paws.

"Tell the SWAT team to go ahead and infiltrate the Ketchum residence and the Oak Lab," she instructed quietly, eyes darting about for any unwanted listeners. "They're still here, but the party's at its tail end. I'll let you know when they leave and James and I will follow them."

"Got it!" she heard him respond.

Now knowing the combat agents were on the move, James became all the more antsy. His green eyes danced around neurotically, the compulsion to bite his fingernails about to commence. Yes, he wasn't fond of the twerp after countless blast offs from his Pokémon, and on any given day would prefer to be victorious over that cocky teenager. Years earlier, James believed he might have been gung-ho for this mission to succeed. But now, after witnessing the simple joys Pallet could bring, after interacting with so many kind and generous people... Over and over, the man tried telling himself this was for the best, that they'd finally receive the recognition as Team Rocket agents they struggled so hard to earn. Unfortunately, it was becoming nearly impossible to allow selfish dreams to stand in the way of ruining someone else's happiness.

Causing erasable damage.

Deep within, James almost felt brave enough to interfere and tell Jessie to end this while they still could- only to choke in sheer fright at the sight of a particular individual coming over.

Barely croaking, James meekly poked his partner on the shoulder. "Jessie-"

She was still in the midst of talking to Meowth. Recalling one little detail to mention.

"And watch out," she warned cautiously. "The professor has company."

A waft of Chanel five flew up James's nostrils. He quivered. The figure was drawing closer.

Shakily, he prodded at her slim shoulder another time with a tad more assertion. "_Jessie_-"

"Who?" the cat asked.

Jessie scoffed faintly, oblivious to her partner's light touch. "There's that dimwitted assistant of his and some man with glasses. Make sure they're taken care of."

He could now hear the clicking of heels over the vivacious laughs and hollers. The presence was relentless against the crowded room. Instantly, James's mind flashed of candlesticks, overdone flower arrangements, dark Victorian furniture, and a large estate. It was almost like having a panic attack.

"You gots it, Jess. I'll tell 'em."

Now she was closer. _Closer. Closer-_

"_JESSIE_!"

The unexpected bleating of James and his harsh grab of her shoulder caused Jessie to jump. Being both spooked and annoyed, she twirled around and loomed over her cringing partner. "What James?!" she growled. Honestly, what could be more important than reiterating vital news to Meowth?

A quaking index finger was raised in the air, his teeth chattering as he pointed past Jessie's shoulder. "T-th-that woman!" he blurted unsteadily.

This only puzzled Jessie. "_Who_?" the female grunt asked sharply.

"Sh-she's r-right b-b-behind y-ou!"

"You two!"

That eerily familiar bark caused both the grunts to immediately straighten their posture and make their hair stand on end. Her feet planted firmly on the ground with wobbly knees, Jessie struggled to maneuver herself around. It was a sad, unsteady turn she made, a grin so forced it almost became unbearable to look at as she met the intimidating eyes of Emily Ketchum.

Now she understood why James behaved like he saw a ghost from his past.

"What can I do for you, ma'am?" Jessie politely answered, James still cowering behind her lean, curvy frame.

"The height of the candles on our table is grossly off," Emily criticized with such appall. "And the napkins weren't folded the correct way. Who was in charge of table six?"

To add to their own woes, it was those very two who were designated to decorate the Ketchum family table. James had volunteered to do most of the arranging himself, seeing Jessie paid more attention to evening her chipped nails with her nail file rather than listening to the head waitress giving them the rundown of the specific tasks. Like their lack of good fortune, he was whisked away to help handle a flower arrangement conundrum of what qualified as an equal balance between lilies and its filler.

Which left Jessie to finish.

Not wanting to be shamed for her less than polished effort, Jessie fibbed. "I-I c-can't say for certain," she answered as she bit her lower lip.

"What a surprise," huffed Emily.

"Would you like me to fix it?" the undercover agent proposed. The last thing she needed was for the twerp's snobbish grandmother to get them fired and ruin their entire plan just because of a slight oversight that could easily be dismissed and forgiven.

Thankfully for them, as if floating down from her heavenly bubble, "Glinda the Good" stepped in and interceded. "Hey Jason, Celia," Delia greeted warmly, standing between the two and Emily. "Why don't you make sure the guests have enough champagne?"

At that very instance, James's heart was about to pound out of his chest. He knew it was silly to be afraid of Emily, but the horrific flashbacks of his childhood had done quite a number on him.

"Thank you!" the man whispered dramatically before scurried away. He practically pushed Jessie out of the way as he dashed off, though his hurried leaving went unnoticed to Delia and her mother-in-law.

It was at that very moment Emily was about to throw some witty comment regarding Delia's on time entrance, when her husband decided to make his own on cue intrusion.

"There you are, Emily," Richard called, now standing beside his wife. "Did you complain about the tapers already?"

"I wasn't complaining, Richard," she shot back with a raised eyebrow. "I was simply informing a couple of waiters that the heights of the candles were extraordinarily off compared to the others."

"Of course you were," her husband patronized, as if her blatant demand was that innocent. "With the way that man exited, I thought he was running for his life."

"Richard!" she exclaimed with a mild glare.

Their childish banter was cut short after that, as Richard turned his attention to his daughter-in-law with an even smile. "The dinner was perfect, Delia. The entire evening has been grand! Thank you for inviting us."

"You're welcome, Richard," Delia replied.

And Emily apparently had a few choice words to add.

"Delia, your dress needs pressing. You could see the wrinkles vividly when you stood up earlier."

The woman kept on smiling, trying to remain unfazed. "Thanks, Emily."

"May I say, on both of our behalves: congratulations on your new ownership of the inn."

Now that felt like genuine flattery. Delia could take Emily being- well, Emily, as long as Richard was his usual congenial self. They had never been close, but Delia always received far more acceptance from her father-in-law compared to his wife. Maybe embracing Ash and respecting Delia was his own way of making up for the near abandonment and betrayal he had bestowed onto his own son. Despite this, Delia appreciated his efforts.

"Thank you so much. Really, it- it means a lot."

Like usual, awkward tension arose and silence came. Until Emily was forward enough to break the cycle with her nose proudly up in the air. "Well, we'll be leaving shortly," she said rather flatly. "Richard has a business meeting early tomorrow morning and I've got a hospital to run."

She suspected no less.

"Of course."

"If we don't see him when we leave, tell Ash goodbye for us and give our compliments to your mother and Michelle," her mother-in-law added, as if saying such just because it was "good manners."

"I will," the woman nodded again. "Thank you both for coming."

With the goodbyes in order, Emily and Richard were already starting to depart. From what Delia could sense, it appeared as if the couple was in a hurry. And because of that, something didn't settle well within her. They had only taken a few footsteps back to their assigned table to say farewell to their own daughters when something in Delia prompted her to call back the person she usually dreaded speaking too.

"Uh, Emily?"

Her voice was so meek and light she was surprised Emily heard her and bothered to acknowledge her abrupt beckoning.

"Yes?" she responded, turning slightly as Richard kept on walking.

Delicately, Delia's hands clasped together. Once having Emily's attention, the auburn haired woman became tongue-tied. Pausing, her mind worked hastily to find the words that she wanted to say. Rational couldn't explain what exactly came over her or why she'd even bother to mend their strange relationship. But Delia knew in her heart it was best to settle any carried-over tension between her and Emily if she was going to follow the philosophy she constantly preached to her own child.

"I just wanted to say- I'm sorry about our argument the other night," the woman declared, hoping she didn't sound as scattered as she felt. "I mean, I haven't changed my mind on what I said, but- I don't like it when we...disagree." She didn't know how else to put it. "I could have handled myself better than I did.

"And...tonight's supposed to be a wonderful night with family and- I just don't want you to feel awkward. That you and Richard had to make a special appearance and then leave. Because we do want you to stay. _I_ want you to stay."

There was no way Delia was going back on what she told Emily that evening. Nor was she about to let her mother-in-law think she could weasel her way in again to meddle in unnecessary and dreamt up love affairs. However, Delia was willing to put their differences aside for one night. Especially on an occasion such as this.

The silence seemed to stretch as Emily's eyes wandered, Delia knowing that face all too well. She was considering how to respond tactfully. And so, being her proud self, Emily scrounged up the nerve to reply decently. "Well, if that's how you feel...then I suppose we can stay a little longer," she decided indifferently.

But it was enough.

* * *

It felt as if they had been wandering around for centuries.

Meeting branch after branch, earning every surface scrape after scrape against exposed skin, Jay still travelled onward. He followed Kelly's lead steadily; it was a fast pace but certainly not fast enough for Jay. He'd cruise right by the old man if he got the chance, though he found that to be impossible with the continual thick greenery every which way. His eyes were becoming less and less useful, too. The deeper they traveled into the brush, the darker their surroundings became. Whenever light was extinguished, Jay's already heightened senses would intensify incredibly, his insecurities rising as they wrestled to stay even when being confronted with the overpowering loss of control to the night.

"How much further?" the master asked gravelly. He hoped his constant questioning wasn't comparable to that of a restless kid in Mommy and Daddy's minivan on what felt like an over-extended car ride.

"We're getting close," was all Kelly said.

He huffed. That was as vague as ever. Nonetheless, Jay continued trekking forward into the dark abyss of the forest. Only on occasion did he pause when his eye caught a glimpse of the crest of the moon, and a distant unintelligible cry moaned so mournfully his bones shook within. Every chilling flinch made his mind rush with the worst possible explanation. The master's heightened senses had been both a blessing and a curse. From his own perspective, Jay found them to be a curse more than anything.

Between every step and sound of crunching greenery, Jay could feel his anxiety rise with exhilarating anticipation. Besides seeing Suicune for the very first time, he had no idea what to expect nor could even manifest the creature right before him in his mind. The thought of it all made him hazy and dizzy, excited and scared. This was a legendary Pokémon. One that was to be treated with the utmost respect. One that could somehow, someway provide him with the answers he had been desperately seeking for ten years.

Then there was Drake and the others back at the house…. Leaving them in the midst of night didn't settle well within the master, and taking them didn't sound like a guaranteed safe solution either. His paranoia of the night's dark intentions furthered to mess with his head, thinking, wondering, if they were all right, _what _might happen if he was gone for too long….

If he was even capable of protecting himself.

At last, patience had paid off. Kelly's speed had increased and soon he crouched down in the middle of an overgrowth of bushes. Jay joined his side from there and looked to the man's darkening silhouette for an explanation. Gradually, as his wrinkled hand pulled back a chunk of shrubbery, Kelly revealed the very creature they had been eagerly awaiting. Turning to the side, he motioned for Jay to gaze ahead.

"There, you see?" he pointed with a steady hand. "Suicune."

Upon peering at the crystal clear lake, Jay's eyes were no longer blinded by the night, but by the brilliant cast of heavenly blue light emitting from the creature.

_Suicune..._

He had seen many spectacular Pokémon in his years, but nothing, besides Ho-Oh itself, was comparable to the majestic water beast before him. Jay was instantly spellbound, utterly frozen as he gawked with a slightly agape mouth. This had to be one the most glorious moments of his life. To be witness to such a rare and special Pokémon…

Within seconds, Kelly broke Jay's admirable trance. "This is your chance, Jayce. To discover the truth."

"How?"

"Go forth into the water. It is waiting."

Already, Jay noticed the Pokémon had spotted them, staring at the men with a fixed serious face and muscular stance. Swallowing a gulp, arms and legs moved slowly and cautiously as Jay emerged from out of the greenery and onto the fresh summer grass. His amazed eyes refused to look away from Suicune as he journeyed closer and closer, finally standing upon the edge of the dirt that cut off to the lake. With his foot pointed towards the water, he seemed hesitant at first, not wanting to somehow spook the creature and cause it to flee the scene. But once receiving a nod from Kelly, Jay boldly took his first step into the water. The crisp blue water was colder than he expected, his legs beginning to swish against the little waves he created. The depth of the natural liquid was not as deep as he imagined either, only coming to his mid-thigh as he waded on.

Every splash against his now soaked pants, every step that led him to Suicune, made his heart pump faster and faster. Yes, he had earned the title as Pokémon Master, but still, coming into contact with a legendary left him indescribably nervous and exhilarated. It wasn't every day one got to encounter a legendary, let alone become so hauntingly close to one!

Freezing, Jay was just a few inches away from the Pokémon, unsure what to do, if he should move or simply remain still. Suicune hadn't flinched as they stood before one another, its eyes the only obvious movement as it examined the human from head to toe. Then, something inside Jay propelled him to raise his hand, allowing the creature to sniff his palm. The master had learned this was one of the best methods to become acquainted with a wild Pokémon, thinking it may have the same effect on Suicune. Of course, he took into account the water Pokémon's high intelligence, though he prayed it would have a similar affect.

As Suicune's snout moved upward into his palm, the trainer nearly choked on his own gasp. The sudden and forced touch was unforeseen to the master, hesitant on how to react, if to say anything. Then, as his fingertips were barely placed over the head of the beast, his eyelids fell.

There was utter darkness.

No sounds, no sight around. Until a beam of light manifested and exploded into blinding, vibrant colors. Suddenly, Jay could see and feel. It appeared as if he was being swept away from the world he knew, his hair blowing crazily against the wind as the colors grew more and more intense. And then, they became instantly muted. Solid ground emerged beneath the trainer's feet, but his surroundings were no longer the same. There was no Kelly or Suicune. The entire forest and lake had morphed into a dreamlike state, hues mingling together and transforming into a rugged, desolate zone.

A place so similar to Mt. Hideaway.

Staring off into the never-ending distance, dark clouds loomed overhead, thunder beginning to roar across the dreary sky. The thunderous cry emitting from the sky, however, sounded too animalistic to be just booming clouds. Jay squinted briefly as he dared to look up, seeing just the start of a yellow spark that transformed into a full-on bolt of lightning. Reacting naturally, he speedily ducked to the ground, the bolt shattering and missing him just feet away. Releasing his coiled fingers from the dirt, the sound of a soft pitter-patter steadily made the master look up. As blue eyes met the infinite sky above, they could see rain droplets form and immediately transform into an all-out downpour. Crashes of thunder howled vicious, following the inevitable strikes of lightning again and again...

Flared nostrils eventually picked up the scent of something burning, followed by ears hearing the definite sound of crackling. Looking to the side, Jay discovered from an earlier profound strike of lightning, a fire had ignited and was beginning to spread hastily across the ground. Backing up, he had no idea of what to make of the terrifying reality before him until-

Until he saw himself.

He was standing on his own, though he was not alone. Wide, frightened eyes first caught sight of a laying, badly injured Drake, then to Misty, to Molly, to Sam, to Brock...all their Pokémon and his combined. All appearing lifeless and in brutal shape, the imagery alone disturbing him with utmost fright. Jay immediately bleated out their names, but no response was given. All he was capable of doing was viewing the events as they unfolded, no possible way for him to interfere... Other than his other self that he saw standing so strong yet utterly petrified.

So what was this? A vision of some sort?

As his heart began to race uncontrollably, the weather began to worsen. Chilling winds knocked him down to his knees, streaks of blustering rain blinding him, and the fire repeatedly emerged as more lightning bolts were created. It was as if nature had lost its balance completely, swirling dark clouds looming down to Earth itself, tainting any ounces of remaining light. Struggling to rise to his feet, Jay determinedly moved forward through the chaotic storm, soon relocating his other self and new presences. Jay watched in incredulity as each legendary beast materialized from the unhinged darkness, each standing in a threatening pose, eyes wild and possessed as they intimidated his other self. Then, in the center, came forth the being Jay had feared more than death itself. His face could not be made out, but by his booming cackle alone, Jay knew it was Giovanni who stood among the creatures. In a sudden flash of lightning, Giovanni's eyes grew twice as vengeful and mad as that of the beasts', his towering body appearing to overshadow that of the other version of himself.

With a raise of Giovanni's right hand, both Jays observed his fingers open, expanding his full palm. He waited impatiently as the Jay before him refused to comply with whatever he silently requested, only for the deranged criminal to hastily coil his hand in a tight hold. Giovanni's maniacal laughter soon blended together with that of a bone-chilling scream of a tortured woman. Her voice echoed so profoundly against the land, that Jay's ears rang horribly without end. He knew that voice.

It was her.

Jay's face contorted into something indescribably horrific. The blood rushed out of his pigment as he howled her name, his mournful cries interweaving with the shrieking of the sky. But it went unheard. His other self reacted in an eerily similar fashion, tears commencing their journey down both pairs of cheek.

A left hand rose.

No. No, he wouldn't dare.

But Giovanni did. At the hesitancy to comply, Giovanni's other hand retracted once more. The start of a young child's blood-curdling cry was just as unbearable, but ended rather unexpectedly as a cast of sparkling light was emitted. Jay could feel his heart swell, completely distraught and overwhelmed as the voice of his six-year-old son echoed endlessly in his ears. Anger filled him with complete drive to take Giovanni's life that very moment in the most brutal form possible-

But he was abruptly halted by the glimmering light coming from his other self. Jay saw that the other version of himself had his arms raised over his head, holding the object that was casting the brilliant glow of light. It seemed there was a shimmer of hope, Jay's heart pounding at an exhilarating rate as he gawked at the growing cast of bursting light-

Then this light collapsed on his shadowed self, consuming him as swirls of gold mingled with that of the overbearing darkness. The ground rumbled uncontrollably, the winds, the lightning, the rain, the fire, all turning into black as the figures he saw lying about faded into dust. Jay's eyesight had become useless to him, while his ears were on overdrive, forever listening to the unendurable bellowing of his own suffering and maddening screeches of the evil that had manipulated him. Then there was a sharp shrill, something godly and enormous flying overhead.

He wanted it to be over. Jay wanted to stop. To stop. To stop!-

All became white.

As if life had been granted back, Jay's eyes flew open, his lungs filled with glorious air once again, and so, he fell forward into the water. From there, he could feel how fast his pulse had risen and the difficulty of controlling his endless quakes. Eventually, the master's trembling hands rose to his face as his knees became soaked to the bone. Splashing waves circled him as he gawked in horror at his disheveled ghostly reflection. That wasn't real, that _couldn't _have been real...

Whatever he just saw- He didn't want it to be his reality.

"It was like..." Jay's breathing was unsteady and quiet. "I was in an alternate world... Could you... could you see all of that? Kelly?" he called pathetically, seeing the man now out of the brush as he looked over his shoulder.

"The world you just witnessed is yours and Suicune's fears combined through a vision," Kelly started to elucidate from the shoreline, obscurely answering the master's question. "Suicune's sensing and fearing the abuse of it and its fellow kind's powers, and you...witnessing the downfall of those you love due to your failure to protect them. That is the result if Giovanni were to succeed. The destruction and resurrection of the world at his will."

The destruction and resurrection...of _the world_? How could that be possible? How could something so outrageously desired be manipulated with just a few components? It was too much to fathom. Too much to believe.

"Kelly- why?" Jay questioned quietly. "How- How could this be…_possible_?"

"Destruction and creation go hand in hand. One cannot live without the other," Kelly carried on somberly. "What your minds combined connects back to an ancient folklore. This folklore entailed the necessary destruction of Earth if humans failed to coincide with Pokémon. If only a single, pure soul was left- the owner of the feather would be given the task to set things right again. In doing so, Ho-Oh as well as other legendaries could manipulate and restructure the world."

"To eliminate humans?" Jay quickly assumed.

The wise Pokémon researcher shrugged. "Perhaps. It is merely just a legend passed down. We cannot say for certain if it has validity to it." Suddenly, a dark cast claimed his aging eyes. "However, Team Rocket apparently thinks it's plausible to execute. Rather than destroying the world to purify it of its faults, Giovanni intends to recreate the world to his own liking. To exploit life for his own selfish reasons. And he intends to do so with Ho-Oh, its servants, and somehow- you and that feather you have."

It was all beginning to make sense and yet, some elements still didn't. A sharp shiver traveled up Jay's spine, though he was positive it was more to do with the overwhelming shock rather than the cold liquid his lower body was bathed in. From the initial jolt throughout his body, Jay struggled to get up, slowly meeting the eyes of a stoic Suicune.

"So…" the master started with thought, "Giovanni wants to rewrite time? By destroying everything and using the legendary beasts and Ho-Oh's powers of resurrection to restore only elements he wants?" Saying it aloud sounded more haunting than Jay could fathom.

Once again, Kelly nodded depressingly. "I'm afraid so. The natural gifts of the beasts are the first elements needed, corrupting their purpose by creating disorder and chaos. Their elements can be just as beneficial to nature as they can also hurt it. Then enters the receiver of the feather: you. The one to use it when he feels there's a loss for all humanity and therefore, annihilation must occur. From what I gather, the feather is a blessing for the good deeds you have done, and thus, you can use that feather to ask of Ho-Oh's greatest gift: to give or take life if the prerequisites follow.

"It is dire that you must avoid calling upon Ho-Oh at any costs. If you and legendary beasts dare to follow the commands of Giovanni...then I'm afraid, because Ho-Oh as faith in all of you, it might abide. The world will face a devastating fate far greater than the expected abuse of a legendaries' power. When you are confronted with this, you will only have a few options, none in which are ideal unless you're willing to make a sacrifice... If you can control your willpower. In the end, you must be certain that you have made the right choice. Because if you don't- the consequences will be catastrophic. You will no longer be the only one affected by this, Jayce. The fate of the entire world rests on this one decision."

Was Jay the one who had to make such an impossible decision? He couldn't comprehend it, let alone decide right then and there what the best course of action was. He didn't even know his options! Nor could he believe that Ho-Oh would be gullible enough to fulfill a command by a mere human under threats. However, to simply envision the impending fear that Ho-Oh may grant the request if enough dark desire was conquering anything of purity... If Jay allowed the destruction to swallow him whole. After all, a man requesting the ultimate chaos was far worse than that of an already tainted man.

There had to be a way. A way to not allow Giovanni to manipulate his...dare he think "willpower" as Kelly put it.

But how in the world would Giovanni get any of the legendary beasts to comply? He certainly couldn't speak to them given the obvious language border. There must have been something else up the criminal's sleeve. Something Giovanni must have been working on during this duration of time as Jay continuously fled...

And, more importantly at the moment, how was Kelly filled with so much knowledge on the subject? And why did he wait tell him?

Fully turning around, Jay shot the researcher a serious but somehow soft expression. "How- do you know about all of this? Tell me, Kelly," he begged in a hoarse voice.

At first, Jay was expecting an immediate explanation as he received earlier. Though to his surprise, Kelly took his time. Foggy, faded, blue eyes danced from side to side, his mouth eventually permitting a sigh to fall. A grief-stricken cast claimed his face, struggling to keep his composure.

"It was eight years ago," the researcher breathed deeply. "I was living in Lavender Town with my only living Pokémon, my Noctowl, Plato. I had just retired from a life of adventures so I could enjoy the simple life back in my hometown. Throughout my career, you see, I had been hired out on many occasions to give lectures to college students, to attend panels with fellow researchers, and to create novels entailing forgotten folklores of our legendaries. That _was _my specialty. These were just stories, though, too far back in time for us to truly know if these tales were merely fiction or something more.

"It was when I moved into my new residence in Lavender Town, did a man approach me and request for me to make a book. He called his book _Project H_. He claimed he called all his folklore editions by the given letter of the main Pokémon featured. I found it rather peculiar, but seeing I had my own fair share of experiences with eccentric history buffs, I thought nothing of it. So, I began to work on the retelling of this tale. The tale of Ho-Oh, the legendary beasts, the pure heart mortal, and the recreation of the world. I had worked tirelessly, reading through my own personal journals before officially creating the retelling art with pen and ink.

"As I worked on it, I was called often as to when it was to be finished. The man's constant calls somewhat irked me at first, nonetheless I continued its completion. Though when the man and I met again for him to officially purchase the book..." It was the first instance Kelly moved during his recollection, shaking his head as if something truly disturbing gave him the chills.

"Something about him- something didn't settle right with me. It was the look in his eyes. The way he behaved... It felt as if he was- obsessed. I had a foreboding feeling he was intending to use this book for something much more than what he led me to believe." He huffed faintly at this. "My sudden rejection for payment and to hand over the book probably seemed irrational without good reason, but I simply couldn't hand it over to him... Call it my intuition. Of course, to be expected, the man was far from understanding. He was outwardly furious, insisting he would get his hands on it one way or another.

"Days had passed since then, and I was led to believe that I was safe from any impending danger. Until one night... I- I still can't think about it without getting teary-eyed."

The muttering of Kelly's words into a noticeable blubber caused Jay's expression to soften incredibly. Silently, he watched the old researcher smear away the start of tears, and soon collected himself.

"I was ambushed by these men in black while out for a late evening stroll in the woods. Unknowingly, I had then learned Team Rocket had hired me as an outside source. You can imagine how foolish I felt at this point. How I had let my own desire to trust others cloud my judgement. Immediately, they had asked me if I was working for a Jayce Ketchum, seeing you were the only person in the midst of preventing their mission. Of course, at the time, I had never heard of you. But they wouldn't believe me. They insisted they were going to retrieve that book by any means necessary, threatening my life repeatedly. It was thanks to my Noctowl that I made it out alive. But my poor Pokémon paid a heavy price..." He shuddered between an obvious sob. "I can never forgive myself for that."

Even at a distance, Jay could vividly witness the heartbreak stirring in the researcher's vocal cords and eyes. He had faced a devastating loss, something Jay could empathize with on his own personal level. There was nothing as devastating as losing a loved one, especially that of a Pokémon, who had been nothing but loyal to its owner for years. Jay couldn't even begin to image how he'd feel if Vulpix had been taken away from him so cruelly. Ultimately, though, a part of him felt he deserved the blame for Kelly's unfortunate loss. If it wasn't for him, if it wasn't for Giovanni's damn conquest against him, then perhaps Kelly and his wrongfully deceased Noctowl might have been spared...

"Kelly... I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry," Jay repeated with sincere condolences.

The old man nodded back as more tears emerged, silently thanking the master for his sympathies. He then concluded his story, sucking in an unsteady deep breath." And so, I've hidden out here ever since. I, much like you, have been running from Giovanni."

"Why didn't you tell me this before?" the master croaked weakly.

"I waited to tell you to see if you'd follow through with meeting Suicune, now knowing the obstacles you're against. That and...I had to make sure you were _the_ one," he empathized heavily, then shed light on his choice of words. "Legend has it that the receiver of the feather is capable of communicating through visions with the legendary beasts. Obviously, it has proven to be correct, which only concerns me further as to what else about that tale is true."

He wasn't the only one who now felt the same.

Jay shook his head in disbelief. "I...I can't be the right person. No… No, I can't."

Twisting his neck, the master slowly peered at the elegant Suicune, hoping that its physical presence alone was a profound enough to reason to believe in himself. But he still couldn't. Not when he recalled all his regrets.

_All I do is cause further damage. _

"As I said, you are the one who received the feather from Ho-Oh, thereby making you the one to call upon it," Kelly reminded blatantly. There was no denying how difficult it would be to grasp the reality that was in front of Jay, but if he was to help the master, Kelly needed him to comprehend and accept what lay before him in the near future.

"It is Ho-Oh that Giovanni wants, and you, Jayce, are nothing more to him than another necessary pawn in his game of chess."

Kelly couldn't have been any more accurate.

This was more than Jay could digest. He feared Giovanni's plans were something of a dastardly and selfish nature, but the trainer had clearly underestimated what stakes the criminal was willing to go to in order to obtain his deepest fantasies. Not to mention he had no reasonable explanation as to how the crime boss was able to execute his mission without that book. Again, he must have already known something, found something... To create this other unworldly reality that seemed so out of reach, yet here it was, at Jay's feet, expecting him to solve the impending doom encroaching slowly to steal away life itself. The idea of obliterating all of Earth, everything so beautiful and pure that humans took for granted daily…. Jay couldn't bear to see this happen. Not under his watch. But to be _the one_ to step up and magically prevent a catastrophic disaster from occurring….

It all had finally hit his rawest emotions.

_He's using the beasts' natural abilities to commence... Oh, God. Oh God in heaven..._

Holding back tears, Jay wasn't sure how to proceed. If he was brave enough to handle any of this. Nevertheless, he swallowed and asked the hardest question of all.

"What _are_ my options?"

* * *

"You seriously have kept that shirt all this time? The last time I saw it was when you were giving a lecture in Viridian City…seven years ago."

Sam blinked before peering down at his mustard checkered shirt. "Well, it's just a little snug. But it's my nicest dress shirt," he tried to defend, though he took note of the buttons already beginning to pull. "Besides, you're the one with the pink tie."

Michael simply chuckled. "A _real_ man isn't afraid to wear pink," he reminded with a wise eye.

"I'll take note of that!" Sam responded lightheartedly.

Despite the grave circumstances surrounding Dr. Michael Strayer's sudden involvement, the two men were having a rather splendid time at the gathering. The company, the champagne, the food…it was easily intoxicating enough to make them, at least, set aside the dire issues needing to be addressed and soak in what pleasures they could. Though when Brock and Tracey eventually strayed away and joined Ash, Prof. Oak, in particular, was beginning to feel the euphoria die down. The joy engulfing the room was less distracting than the earlier hours, his thumbs awkwardly twiddling against his champagne glass as they sat at their table. His mouth did a similar movement, twisting from one side to the other as a moment of silence passed. Having to converse on his own, without the distractions the inn produced, forced the professor to confront how much more complicated his situation had become. Because of him, this rightfully glorious occasion was about to be squashed _the following_ _day_ by his ongoing lies and the dreadful truth.

If he intended on still telling her the truth.

Lifting his eyes just slightly, the researcher recognized his old colleague was beginning to think about the same thing.

The unavoidable topic.

Prof. Oak swallowed, finally getting to the subject at hand as his voice fell quiet. "I don't know if it's still the best time to tell her or not given the- uplifting circumstances as they are."

Michael studied his friend for a few seconds, and then flashed sympathetic brown eyes. "As much as I understand your perspective, I still find it vital that we tell Delia sometime in the near future…. _Preferably _tomorrow like we planned. After all, she asked if you found out anything to let her know after the party."

The reminder forced Sam to nod. He couldn't go back on his word. If he was going to hold onto an ounce of his acclaimed integrity, he had to, at the very least, keep his promise.

"Yes, yes, you're right."

"Don't worry, Sam; we'll do this very gently," the psychologist said with a reassuring smile. "I'll be there every step up the way. Whatever counseling Ash, Delia, Jayce, and even _you_ need, I'm here."

A half-somber smile broke out. "I appreciate your friendship, Michael. But if we're going to get into discussing this…how do you propose we tackle the issue, as you say, 'gently'?" he asked with hesitancy.

Stroking his chin, Michael leaned back in his chair. "Well, um… I've never had to handle a situation such as this before so- let me give it a little thought," he requested.

Understanding perfectly, the professor complied and waited anxiously for a helpful reply. Those seconds seemed to feel like forever as Sam watched his friend fidget in his seat before moving forward and placing his elbows on the table. Extending his thinking process, Michael rested his chin underneath his clasped hands, his gaze acknowledging a pair of old, worn, blue eyes fixating on him from the corner of his own eye. Usually, the skilled doctor was able to think of a reasonable solution in a matter of minutes. Recalling lessons and advice he had picked up and used considerably within his practice. But for this family matter…there was nothing to compare it to.

No longer able to stand the silence, either, Michael announced the first realistic concept that came to his head. "We should meet on neutral territory. Perhaps invite her over to the lab for a cup of tea. That way it's a bit conspicuous. She's already asked you for assistance, so treat the situation with as much rational and professionalism that you can project. And when she asks why I'm there, I will do the same."

"I also think we should leave Tracey and Brock out of this," Prof. Oak suggested, implying he agreed to the psychologist's terms.

"I agree," Michael nodded. "They've been involved in this enough, and I think it would only further complicate matters. You and I are closest to Delia, and we should probably tell her the news ourselves."

"Very well."

It appeared the subject was settled for the time being. That is, until Sam stared intensely into his half-empty champagne glass. "But, um-" he rubbed his temple out of anxiety. "I am concerned as to how I should deliver this life-altering news."

Sighing, Michael caught onto what his colleague was insinuating. "Sam, I've known you for years, and I must admit that your social skills are a bit…." How should he put it kindly? "...askew at times."

Not at all offended, Prof. Oak gave a faint laugh. "Oh, Michael, you know me. While you were out on campus impressing the ladies, I was busy trying to converse with Pidgey!"

That's actually what Michael meant. There was no question that Samuel Oak, deep down, had a very kind and earnest heart. But from the time Michael knew of him during their college days, Sam was the sort of man who preferred to isolate himself in his dorm with his classwork and research versus out and about with fellow classmates. He was deeply entranced with studying Pokémon specifically, exploring his soon to be career in the relationships between humans and Pokémon. It was simply dumb luck for Sam to meet his wife, after she had accidentally knocked on the wrong dorm room door, believing that specific residence was hosting a party.

Of course, Prof. Oak's dedication to his work paid off immensely, not only for himself but in aiding others in the world of Pokémon researchers and trainers. He was an exceptionally respected and well-liked man, but when it came to matters of the human heart...early in his years, he had allowed his personal pursuits to stand in the way of his human relationships, unintentional or not.

His former wife, Elizabeth, being a prime example.

However, Michael knew Sam had changed a great a deal after their divorce and being forced to raise Chad on his own. Most notably, of course, his obvious fatherly dedication to Jay. Still, declaring to have kept such secrets from Delia was a different matter altogether, one that couldn't be expected to be handled with ideal perfection. Michael took this into account...and something else.

Perking up at Sam's image of his college self, the man raised an eyebrow. "I think you have me confused with our _other _roommate," he hinted heavily. "I was hardly a ladies' man."

"Oh, you're much too hard on yourself, Michael. You had a handful of girlfriends in our college days. If memory serves me correctly, you even took out Emily."

Instantly, Michael's cheeks became flushed. "Sam, I implore you to cease your recollection-"

"I mean, if you hadn't taken her to that social engagement that evening, she and Richard may have never met. If you could bring _those two _together, then this should be a cinch!"

He made a face. "Are you insane?"

"Oh, let me dream!" Sam cried, letting his cheek fall into his hand.

Yes, his example did sound rather insane. It was wishful thinking on Sam's part to believe if the likes of Emily and Richard were meant to be together, even after Richard's blatantly and tactless confession that he'd had an _affair_, then perhaps Delia and Jay had a fighting chance...or maybe not?

Sam bringing up the night Michael took Emily out to that preppy dance club about made him retch at how horrible and embarrassing of a night that was. His date was arranged by a friend in one of his classes who was dating a girl from Saffron University, who had a friend from the same college who the couple believed she and Michael would make the ideal match.

Which turned out to be a young, beautiful, witty, and not so innocent Emily Evans.

She certainly didn't have the demeanor of being a big-eyed lost doe in the woods. Michael had never dated a girl like her, and hardly had a chance to soak in her opinionated and confident self when she abandoned him abruptly on the dance floor and went straight to the handsome, dark haired man continuously looking her way, who already had a handful of girls in his presence. After that, he could never listen to _Lady Marmalade _the same way again. Michael was absolutely embarrassed to be left standing there dateless thanks to none other than his charming and experienced roommate Richard Ketchum. There wasn't any animosity between the two men afterwards, seeing Michael didn't have the time to even develop an attachment for Emily. Nonetheless, it was still awkward that Richard rather willingly snatched Emily up for himself without much consideration.

After that, to Michael, it was strange to see how drastically Richard had changed after meeting and marrying Emily. He became, well...what the psychologist saw now. There were no words to describe the evolution of their- unique relationship. Looking back, though, he was perfectly content that his date with Emily went nowhere, seeing how she was so...intense. But he still became a tad red-faced if, on the rare occasion, the conversation was ever brought up. He just hoped to God that Emily and Richard's children knew nothing of how the two so "romantically" met.

Shaking his head at the lunacy of it all, Michael proceeded to remove his glasses and rub his face. "Bringing Emily and Richard together and even _taking out_ Emily in the first place was riddled with so many mistakes I can't even count them. If I was capable of anything, I'm afraid I would make Jayce and Delia the _revamped _Emily and Richard."

Unable to resist the urge to smirk, Sam released a chortle and patted his friend's tense shoulder. "Now, don't be so dramatic. _No _couple would amount to Emily and Richard. _Especially _Delia and Jayce. You should consider yourself a real life love doctor!" he continued to playfully tease.

"And yet family practice is what I chose to go into. My, what a mistake," he mumbled sarcastically with a huff. "In all seriousness, though, Sam, we should really consider how we're going to break the news to Delia. I mean, you've known why Jayce left for so long and you haven't said a word to her. Ultimately, she's going to have some distrust in you."

The haunting reality ceased Sam's laughter, his smile quickly morphing into a worrisome frown. "I know, and believe me, it's not settling well with me at all. I just- I don't know how to…come out with it!" he dared to say, the stress beginning to rise within. Then, accepting the inevitable, he sighed. "I suppose it's my cross to bear…. I just- I can't stand the idea of hurting her and Ash."

Michael could see the cloudiness form in the professor's eyes, his posture and expression changing completely. Harboring such unfathomable secrets had surely done a number on him. Just by looking at the older man, it was clear how he desperately wanted to go back in time and handle the situation differently. Though from what Michael understood, there wasn't anything else Sam could have done differently.

He wasn't solely to blame after all.

Out of kindness, the psychologist placed a hand on Sam's shoulder. "You weren't intentionally hurting anyone," he reminded firmly but evenly. "You were just trying to protect them, like Jayce had asked you to."

"Yes… But what if they don't see it that way?"

* * *

A pair of binoculars drifted away from the majestic water creature and the target before him.

At last. After hiding out they had found not only him, but a surprising addition as well.

"Well, all be damned. Not only do we have Ketchum where we want him, but Suicune, too. Man, is that other squad the boss sent out gonna be pissed."

Cassidy, Butch, and their fellow grunts were all hunkered down in a thick line of brush, stationed on a small easily climbable cliff above the glorious lake. Camouflaged in their black uniforms as the moon at last claimed the starry sky, the group gawked at the magnificent Suicune and Ketchum's strange need to wade in the water. As much as they were anxious to nab Ketchum and return to Giovanni, they were glad their patience brought them good fortune. Up until now, they spent their hours observing Ketchum, watching him interact with this unknown man who, miraculously, led them to one of the very Pokémon the boss had been dying to get his hands on.

Everything was falling so perfectly into place.

A little _too_ perfect, perhaps, for the likes of two particular grunts.

In response, Butch glanced to the man, watching his crooked grin widen at their dumbstruck luck. "I thought our only target was Ketchum?" the agent dared to question.

The head grunt, in charge of the combat team, stifled a laugh. "Don't act as if you didn't know the beasts were needed- or did you _not_ know?"

His question was prompted by the quieting of Butch and Cassidy, though it was obvious the female grunt wasn't about to be looked upon as a fool completely out of the loop of Giovanni's heinous scheme. "Of course we knew," Cassidy answered rather hotly. They had been given the rundown of what was required for this mission's completion at the start of their hiring for the project. The only _little _detail unmentioned being their boss's ultimate goal…

"And I think capturing Ketchum alive will be a feat in itself. Taking on both him and a legendary will be nearly impossible," she reminded rationally, given their target's history and the reputation of any legendary's immense power.

"You seriously thought the boss would send us out without backup?" the male agent contradicted with a snort. "What do you think half of our camp is made up of?"

Of course, she took note of the various weapons and Pokémon the combatants had been supplied with. She had been wondering, though, what some of those strange devices were for…. Cassidy just didn't think ensnaring Suicune was on the top of the priority list. As insane as it sounded, she was starting to feel timid about everything. Following the orders she was given were already difficult enough, but to try to capture Suicune and Ketchum...it seemed like far too much to take on at once. And if his friends were nearby...

"I know what weapons we have," she shot back, matching his harsh tone. "But I was told another team altogether was in charge of capturing the beasts. All _you_ were needed for was to help us take out Ketchum's friends-"

"But they aren't here, are they?" the head agent contradicted sharply with a smirk. "And Suicune _is_." This caused Cassidy to fall silent with a deadly glare. Though he took it as nothing to be fearful of. "Just let me handle this if it's too much for you to take on."

Butch could see how infuriated his partner was becoming at her supposed lack of multi-tasking. The last thing Cassidy would stand for was to be labeled an incompetent agent, one who couldn't handle the strenuous details in her job description. On any past encounter, she was all about executing the mission without hesitation or flaws, but in this instance, rational precaution was in need of being addressed. They weren't dealing with any ordinary trainer and they most certainly weren't dealing with any ordinary, let alone common Pokémon.

Before she could continue the debate on the best course of action, however, the pompous grunt was already giving out orders. "You," he started, singling out one recruit, "call in the helicopter stationed in Saffron to prepare for Suicune, and you two," he soon pointed to a pair, "get the weaponry ready.

"As for the rest of you, listen up," he went on, once the instructed men made their way back up to the highest point of the ridge. "Ketchum's comrades aren't in range, but if any of you see them lurking around don't hesitate to shoot them or their Pokémon. The boss wants them out of the picture. And the old man counts too."

"And what if they're not with him?" Butch interrupted, catching everyone by surprise. "Are you going to go look for them to make sure they're finished off?"

He hoped his words didn't sound as choked as they felt in his throat.

"If we go looking for Ketchum's recruits we might as well surrender," the grunt retorted with a scoff. "I'm not gonna go looking for unnecessary trouble, just to have them help him escape. Unless they're visible, forget it. We're too damn close to let Suicune or Ketchum get away that easily."

Though a sigh of relief hadn't escaped Butch's mouth, he was immensely eased to hear the head combat agent had no desire to kill unless spotted. If Giovanni was to become outraged by this, at least he could blame the rash grunt rather than have him and Cassidy facing any dire consequences. Or their conscience facing any damning plights.

After receiving a couple of nods, the leader of the pack nodded back and motioned. "Now, let's move out. On my count, we fire."

They were all about ready to skulk around the small area, spreading far apart to get a wide angle at their specific targets, when a voice abruptly rose in stern insistence.

"Hold on!" Cassidy hissed sharply, raising a hand. "You're supposed to go on _our _command-"

"Don't get all high and mighty, princess," the head honcho of the group, once again, cut her off as if she was nothing but a mere pest. "Sit back, and let the professionals handle this. Like I said, this is our only shot to capture that damn thing. Those beasts rarely ever show up, and catching Ketchum _plus _Suicune will surely make the boss's day. You do want that, don't you?"

If it were any other situation, she would answer yes without a second thought. But after how her emotions had been toying with her heart the last few lingering days...

She had to make a choice.

"Fine," Cassidy replied irresolutely with a sneer. "If you insist, then you take half of the team to help handle Suicune, and let Butch and I take the rest to capture Ketchum."

He released a twisted grin. "Whatever you say, your majesty."

* * *

The overgrown vegetation had caught Drake's ankle for another time.

He at last cursed under his breath, teeth tightly grinding together as his frustrated foot freed itself from nature's hold. The flashlight had gone out soon into his search for the batteries had ironically run dry. It was the last thing he needed.

Without Gengar, searching in the pitch black was nearly fruitless. Dragonite's sight was much better than a human's in such darkness, but nothing compared to the capabilities of a ghost type. As he continued to struggle against the dense brush, the islander felt downright stupid for not utilizing his dragon's flying abilities. Flying seemed like the ideal strategy to locate Jay, though Drake knew better than to take any risks with Team Rocket possibly lurking around and their overwhelming number of Salamence. And he certainly didn't want to battle when he could hardly see his own hands before him.

A huff escaped Drake's mouth as he stared blankly into the never-ending forest of black. _Where the hell are you, Jayce?_

Suddenly, Drake sensed the movement of his two-winged friend, the dragon shifting his large girth from his master. Dragonite looked to the sky as he tipped his head back, falling quiet and stiff as if focusing. On a sound perhaps? Blindly, Drake attempted to gaze in the same direction as his Pokémon, listening for any abnormal sounds. Reacting as if a natural reflex, the islander's hand went to the vicinity where his gun was strapped on his 'belt. He, to no surprise, couldn't hear a thing. Nothing more than the familiar coos of nocturnal Pokémon. At this rate, Drake was begging desperately for a sign of some kind. With how long the dead silence had carried over, he was about to reluctantly assume that Team Rocket had already captured Jay.

Thinking the worst, however, only furthered to anger the man. Again and again, he mentally beat himself up for not seeing this one coming. Rational thinking wanted to claim Drake's thoughts and decide right then and there that Kelly had manipulated them- But for some reason, as if the hopeful voice of Molly replayed in his head, the islander couldn't see the old man as anything more than...

A mysterious guardian of some kind.

Either he was damned good at playing the innocent role or Kelly had neglected to mention something _obviously_ noteworthy. His concentration on the struggle of Kelly's character was soon broken, however, by an alarming shift in Dragonite's vocal cords. The dragon just barely released a growl of some sort when a bright shimmer in the far distance caught both his and his master's eye. By the gradual but sporadic intensity of the growing light, Drake could feel his eyes ache terribly as they continued to squint at the overpowering glow.

_What the-? _

KABOOM!

Drake's eyelids only blinked halfway when a thunderous explosion shot up in the air and dispersed across the area. The explosive blast shook the ground unexpectedly, Drake's fingers digging into the bark of a thick tree for support. Swiftly, Dragonite cast his wings over his trainer's frame, shielding them from any possible debris that was flung in their direction. In time, the aftermath dissipated, causing a bewildered Drake to slowly look up. He felt as if his heart was about to pound right through his chest, eyes wide as his breathing rapidly increased as the shock sunk it. Then, another sound emerged. The commotion that soon followed afterwards was sharp and chilling, the shouts of human voices mingling with animalistic noises in the very location of the blast.

There was no need to wonder where Jay was now. Without hesitation, Drake no longer thought about his ankles possibly being wrapped in strands of ivy between careless steps. All he did was run as fast as his beating heart.

_I'm coming Jay!_

* * *

**A/N Count.: **There's certainly a lot to take in after this one! Especially with being left on a cliffhanger! There will, of course, be more new twists and discoveries regarding this foreboding tale of doom. I've just provided a taste for you all with this strange dream-like vision! Now we're left wondering what will happen to Jay, will Drake intervene in time, and what about Ash and Gary's little deal? Find out in the next chapter! :D

Thank you all for reading!


	23. Tick, Tick, Tick

**Author's Note: **Hello my wonderful readers! I would like to thank you all, yet again, for your patience and continual support even when I don't update as frequently as I'd like to. Spring has just been busy and crazy for me in regards to school, personal things, and opening my Etsy shop. Lots and lots to do! *_* I have only a couple of weeks until finals, so I'm super excited summer is drawing near! Hopefully, I can squeeze in some more writing time. ;)

I must prepare you for a chapter full of drama and are getting closer to the end of the story. With how my chapter layout is looking as of now, I'd say we have roughly seven to nine more chapters to go, give or take how lengthy each chapter gets.

As always, I truly truly hope you all enjoy this new installment my beta reader and I finalized!

**DISCLAIMER: **_Pokémon_ belongs to Satoshi Tajiri. My oc's and all their tragedies belong to me. ;p

* * *

**Sunlight's Return**

**Chapter 23**

_Tick, Tick, Tick..._

He couldn't see anything.

Jay's hearing was almost impaired too. His most precious senses were crippled by the thick clouds of smoke infiltrating the water and conspicuous mechanical sounds blending with human voices. The earth shook incredibly during that first blow, his entire body sinking into the shallow lake to avoid possible physical damage. Immense amounts of water had been cast out of the lake, thanks to the blast from somewhere up above. Swiftly, the master rose to the top, emerging out of the water as he came face to face with the impending danger. Jay didn't need to see their uniforms to realize Team Rocket was guilty of the random attack. However, it took him a moment to make the connection they were the midst of capturing Suicune. As Kelly had made aware, Jay wasn't the only prey the organization had their eyes on.

There was an ongoing struggle. Strange weapons positioned above the cliff were being fired off by several agents. Bolts of blue energy emerged from the tips of the weaponry, continually zapping the dodging legendary beast; its powerful attacks of extrasensory and aurora beam proving to be useless. The only thing the Pokémon had on its side was speed, and even at that, the zaps seemed to become more powerful as each move was shot from the one of the weapons. Jay had never seen Team Rocket use such equipment before. Spellbound by the fast-pace battling, he assumed the organization was trying out a new form of technology they had developed. A type of technology that appeared to repel against all of Suicune's moves and somehow absorb them to create more power for themselves. Another indicator Giovanni's plan was premeditated...and that it had been for almost this whole time.

With his mind working quickly, Jay reached for his pokebelt and intervened to aid the water beast. And he did so with not only one Pokémon, but two.

"Go, Samurott, Swampert!"

As each pokeball was thrown and a creature appeared from the white glow, Jay began to concoct a plan. His selected Pokémon were picked hurriedly but wisely, hoping his on-the-spot choice of defense would end with positive results. Upon request to come forth, the two Pokémon took on their unique fighting stance and with charged energy, followed through with their master's command.

Pausing, Jay observed the graceful legendary race along the water, waiting for the right time before ordering his water/ground type to make the first move.

"Swampert, kick up the lake with surf!"

With one dive into the water, the bipedal Pokémon beautifully produced an enormous wave. A wave so strong and tall, it was sturdy enough for Suicune to ride against. Jay prayed Suicune could glide quickly enough towards them before he permanently generated a barrier between them and Team Rocket. Unfortunately, however, his prayers were dashed. The enemy's weapon appeared to get some sort of charge by the water move, enough for their crackling beams of blue and purple to ensnare the legendary and drag it back towards them high in the air. An indescribable gasp leaped from Jay's throat as he watched in horror, the beast attempting to release one attack after another to free itself. Every time a burst of what appeared to be an assault on Suicune's part was made, it would immediately go out and would instead be directed back to it. It was to the point that the rumored undefeatable creature at last grew weak and was tragically drawn into the clutches of Team Rocket.

_What in God's name was happening?_

With shaky eyes, Jay now knew attacking those static-like bolts to free Suicune was fruitless. Any move he or Suicune seemed to use only powered up the weapons, rather than dampened their abilities. All he could do now was secure the colossal wave before it crashed down onto them.

"Samurott, aim your blizzard attack onto the wave!"

It was a long shot, but with its stored power Samurott was able to successfully encase the wave. Jay only wished he had thought faster in time to save Suicune. Still, even with its minor triumph, it wasn't a guarantee shield of protection. Due to the warm season, the ice would steadily begin to melt. And Team Rocket grunts were rising from the cliffs and coming towards them...

Jay frowned at this and winced inwardly. _The ice can only hold them off so long..._

When his eyes fell onto Swampert, the master came up with one more solution. "Quickly, Swampert, help hold up the ice with mud slap."

Swampert's mud slap attack was therefore used as a binder for the ice, to help seal the already cracking structure that was facing doom. It was worth a shot, though, buying them enough time to escape. At least, the wall of defense was meant for Kelly. Jay had another route to take altogether. Returning his Swampert to his pokeball and then reaching for Samurott's, Jay was suddenly interrupted by Kelly.

"What are you doing?" he asked, panting. He had been standing at the edge of the lake, observing helplessly as Jay did his damnedest to fight the ambush.

"Go find the others and get them out of here," Jay instructed. "I'll retrieve Suicune with Flygon-"

"You can't!" Kelly urged, grabbing the man by the shoulders. "If you go after it, you won't come back! The ice can only hold for so long. If you wish to stop Giovanni you need to listen to me and run! Remember your options, Jayce-"

The loud chilling crack of shaking ice caused both men to look up, seeing Team Rocket was already working away at melting the ice with their own small array of ramming Rhyhorn. In the back of his mind, Jay knew Kelly's urgency was logical, but he despised the idea of running without even attempting to save Suicune. The reminder of his options, on the other hand, prompted him to recall what was at stake. And what he had the power of doing.

Jay was about to call Samurott to his pokeball when the Pokémon nudged Jay with his nose to move forward, and so, the men took off into the forest with the sea-lion behind. After some time of brief but intense running, the humans' and the Pokémon's feet eventually paused. With wildly beating hearts, Jay and Kelly stood and caught their breaths as panic-stricken eyes darted around their bleak surroundings. Everywhere they looked, all they could see were faint outlines of trees and bushes. Nothing could be made distinct with the lack of vivid sight. They were both so on edge that they even twitched and hunkered into a defensive position when the sound and sight of wild Pokémon ran in mad dashes, as if warning them Team Rocket was coming their way. Seeing one Pokémon after another rush past him, a stirring of sympathy and vexation raged in Jay's heart. Team Rocket was scaring these innocent creatures, forcing them to flee from their homes whether they were bound by the sky or the ground...

It wasn't over. The agents weren't giving up. Suicune, _the_ legendary North Wind, was snatched. Jay and Kelly were outnumbered by the massive amounts of grunts, Pokémon, and weapons. And to top it all off, Jay had no clue where they were or where to go, or if-

A sharp rustle alerted Jay to keep still.

He pressed a finger against his lips to indicate a need of silence from Kelly, who complied with an immediate nod. It was when Jay heard another rustle did he dive towards his 'belt and snatch his gun. With his finger on the trigger, he was ready to fire, only to gasp and jump a little out of surprise at the human before him.

"It's me!" The voice was that of Drake, and once Jay's eyes snapped into focus, he saw the outline of his brother's hands up in the air and the tall dragon standing beside him.

Lowering the weapon, Jay released both a sigh of relief and shock. "Drake?!" The master placed a sweaty hand over his pounding chest. His brother about gave him a heart attack maneuvering around so sneakily in the dark!

"What are you doing out here?!" he demanded in a low whisper.

"Coming to find you," Drake answered, slightly winded. "You're in danger!"

"Newsflash," the master retorted, "I've _always_ been in danger!"

An eye roll and a groan proceeded to follow. "That's not what I meant! _He's_ the threat."

"_What_?"

Out of nowhere, Jay watched Drake pull a gun from his 'belt and point it at the equally surprised Kelly. Unable to move by the shock, a gasp was hitched in the back of the master's throat. He had no clue what his brother was thinking, and hardly had time to process the startling development before Drake gave a chilling demand.

"Step away from Jay, Kelly," the islander ordered sternly, posing a threat as his finger pressed against the trigger.

Instantly, Jay came between the old man and his brother. "Drake- what the hell are you doing?!" he bellowed.

"He tricked us, Jay," Drake stated gravely, still wielding the gun in a firm, threatening hold. "He's working with Team Rocket."

"It's not like that, Drake!" the master tried to persuade. "He was deceived by Team Rocket! They used him, and Kelly was only trying to warn us-"

"Then explain the book, Kelly," Drake interrupted, a harsh glower cast the researcher's way. "You know what I'm talking about!"

"It's what I've been hiding from Giovanni," Kelly began as evenly as he could, easing Jay to step away. Even with the gun secured in Drake's grasp, the old man was brave enough to walk past Jay and come forward, so close to Drake that the barrel of the gun was inches away from his chest. This, in turn, staggered the islander, though he kept his firm demeanor, the gun just barely shaking in his grasp.

"The book holds a possible understanding of what he needs for his plans to succeed," Kelly explained in very brief detail. "But I am afraid he already has a good idea of what could come."

"What do you mean what _could_ come?" Drake spat, eyebrows drawing closer together.

"Will you just end this interrogation?" Jay swiftly cut in once more, now glaring at his brother. "We can talk about this later! They're coming, and unless you want to die you need to trust me on this."

Inwardly, Drake wanted to believe his brother. Outwardly, however, he found it too difficult, his suspicions lingering with a deepened scowl.

"You're telling me Kelly isn't here to harm us?" he questioned quietly, his hardened blue eyes glancing to Kelly as if a warning to remain still.

"I can _swear_ by it!" Jay responded with an exasperated groan. "I promise to fill you in later, but right now we need to-"

All of a sudden, a horrible thunderous cry rang out of Jay's mouth, neither Drake nor Kelly knowing where in the world it came from. They whipped their heads around as rapidly as Jay tumbled to the ground, and within mere seconds, the pair caught sight of the very thing that pulled the master down by his shoulder. A shadow of a four-legged animal tackled the master, deep immense growls pouring from its mouth as flashes of white teeth snapped again and again in Jay's face. Reacting out of natural reflex, Drake fired the gun towards the creature, though missed as the bullet ricocheted off a tree root and into the ground. Only when Jay's Samurott lunged to take out the creature with a swift swipe of its tail, did a whole pack of four more emerge out of the darkness and jump directly onto the giant sea-lion. As the water type lifted its head to the moon, both men at last realized what was clinging to Samurott's back so ferociously. A group of Mighteyna had been sent out, alerting the nearly frozen men to hastily intervene.

Between squinted eyes, Jay's fingers fearlessly fought back against the sharp teeth of the Mightyena. Holding the Pokémon back as he felt some of his fingers earn minor slashes, the front paws of the wolf dug harshly into his chest. He grit his teeth at the pain originating from his mangled shoulder, endlessly struggling to hurl the Pokémon to the side as it drew inches and inches away from his face. Drips of warm saliva cascaded onto his face, his fingers forcing the creature to jerk its head back and forth between snapping jaws. It was at the highest intensity of the fight did Kelly valiantly dash and grabbed the Mightyena by its neck. The wolf was already beginning to violently squirm from his hold, continually attempting to bite at his hands.

Once the researcher had the Pokémon halfway off of Jay, the master found enough strength and endurance to rise, immediately recalling his now wounded Samurott back to his pokeball. Words could not describe the anger and devastation Jay was infested with at the damage done to his Pokémon in efforts to protect him. His fueled rage, however, was withheld by the expeditious intervention of Drake, his Dragonite whipping a forceful gust of wind which sent the pack a decent distance away for them to make a break for it.

They only had enough time to ask Jay if he was all right, before the paralyzing shouts of men and more howls escalated. There was no time for chit chat.

They had to make haste and run.

* * *

"Your grandma and your mom really outdid themselves," Tracey complimented, gleaming at his surroundings.

And Brock was busy staring at his own prospects. "They sure did," he grinned. "Especially with the waitresses."

Immediately, the artist appeared puzzled. That is, until his eyes focused on the very female being Brock was ogling at. Tracey released a weak smile at this. Then he sweat-dropped. "That's not what I meant, but I see where you're coming from."

Ash, on the other hand, had no clue what the conversation was about, let alone how long it had been going. He was standing with Brock and Tracey, sipping on his own beverage as if appearing to be involved in the casual discussion. Though his eyes and thoughts were too disconnected from the conversation to follow. Completely zoned out, all the voices near and far became nothing more than indistinct background noise as he looked to the side. Concentrating thoughtfully on a particular restless individual.

To say the very least, the excitement of the party had worn off for Ash. At this point in time, he was alone with thoughts, no longer entertained by meals or grand announcements. Which meant his attention went straight back to Gary. He had done a decent job at keeping his eagerness to confront his cousin at bay. But now with the evening drawing to a close, and Gary making no attempt at pulling him aside... As he studied him, Ash was beginning to wonder. Wonder exactly what Gary was waiting for, and why every time he glanced at him it was obvious his ex-rival was ignoring him. It was a troublesome state to be in, Gary's movements and state uneasy to decipher. All he wanted to receive was a cue from Gary, to know he indeed had the intentions of holding up his deal.

However, as minutes continued to tick by, Gary made no motion. Strangely enough, he didn't appear interested in spending time with his family or Harper. Barely chatting up so confidently like he usually would. While the crowd was thick between the teenagers, Ash saw a glaze in Gary's eyes he had never seen before. Something quiet, perhaps even regretful...

With squinted eyelids and suspicion rising, Ash peered closely at Gary. Only to lose his train of thought at the sound of a voice next to him.

"Do you guys think facial hair makes me look older?" Brock asked his friends, eyes gleaming into his shiny glass, as if to examine his physical self.

"Oh, yeah, yeah," Tracey nodded. "A little never hurts."

The Pokémon-doctor-in-training proceeded to stroke his chin. "I wonder what Dani thinks of facial hair... Has she said anything about my goatee?"

His attention was turned to Ash, who was busy being distracted once more. Though, unlike most occasions, Brock didn't read into it. When a girl he fancied was his main focus, everything else around him became muddled and forgettable.

When he finally felt the eyes of Brock and Tracey, Ash blinked and gazed back. "Hmm? What is it?"

"Do you know if Dani likes guys with facial hair?" Brock rephrased.

"Uh..." Ash paused. He shrugged. "I wouldn't know."

This didn't seem to discourage the college student, still casting his fond gaze at an oblivious Dani. "Man, does she look ravishing tonight... And your aunts do, too... And your mom."

Instantly, chocolate eyes widened. If anything was going to catch Ash's full attention, it was this.

"_My mom_?" the dark haired teen nearly croaked, as he was about to take a sip from his sparkling cider.

"Dani does look nice," Tracey agreed, but soon frowned a little at the last part. "...and everyone else?"

"She looks _more_ than nice," Brock corrected with dreamy eyes. "You know, I think she and I are having a connection."

Ash was still utterly lost.

"My mom or Dani?"

"Really?" Tracey egged, surprised by this installment. In most instances, Brock's original and lavish tactics usually ended in a girl's polite dismissal of his affections or a complete blow to his heart.

"Hmhm," the older trainer nodded with sly assurance.

Now he was really panicking.

"Uh, let's have some clarification here!" Ash's excitable voice of confusion at last captured his friends' attention, his hands raised as he tried to calmly clear the air. "You're talking about Dani, _right_?" he double-checked carefully, though the faint note of alarm in his voice went unnoticed.

Brock gave him an odd look. "Well, yeah."

A hand of relief was pressed to his chest. _Oh, thank God!_

While Ash was in the midst of collecting his wits, his unfortunate and far off reading into the conversation still went by the wayside. He supposed this is what he got for his lack of regard.

"Are you sure she likes you?" Tracey pressed, not fully convinced of Brock's sudden proclamation.

Caught off guard, the college student couldn't help but pause and wince. "...I'm about sixty percent sure."

That was just a little over fifty.

"I mean, we've been getting along _and_ she's interested in Pokémon breeding _and_ she wanted some of my recipes," he hurriedly defended, trying to rationalize his new endearment. "Plus, I didn't see her with a date... Does she not have a, uh- boyfriend?" This so obvious question was turned to Ash, Brock biting his lower lip as he anxiously awaited an answer.

In return, the raven haired teenager cocked an eyebrow. Once again, he had to slowly glance away from a shifty Gary. At this rate, Brock was playing the subtlety card just as poorly as Emily had been about Misty.

"I don't think that's really on her mind right now," Ash replied, trying to hide his mild agitation. "But I'm pretty sure she's had a boyfriend in the past." Silently, he reconsidered his response._ At least, I _think_ she might have mentioned that... That, or was it just a pen pal and Grandma teased her about it being her new boyfriend? Uggh, I don't know! _the trainer groaned inwardly, now looking towards his ex-rival once more. _I really don't care. I've got too much on my mind. And the way Gary keeps looking around... _His eyes grew in astonishment. _Is he trying to?-_

"So is she available? I mean, if it's cool with you."

Right when Gary abruptly rose from his seat and shoved his hands in his pant pockets, Brock's voice carried over and deafened Ash's thoughts for what felt like the hundredth time. If Ash wasn't strictly keeping himself in check, he would have nearly snapped at Brock. Turning, he was forced to speak with his friend again, the corner of his eye just barely peering at a nervously standing Gary-

"She's your cousin and because we're friends, I wanna respect that," he heard Brock say with the utmost sincerity. "And as much as I like Dani...I wouldn't want to make you uncomfortable."

Why did he have to make such a polite request right when Ash was in the middle of something? He had already kept his little agreement with Gary hidden from Brock, and exiting in a huff towards his ex-rival would only prompt Brock and Tracey to brew with suspicion. So, like a broken record, Ash attempted to stay patient. After all, Brock was _trying _to be a gentleman about this. He truly liked Dani, and while Brock could be a bit much with his declarations, Ash knew without a doubt what a great catch he was.

Sighing, Ash caved in and managed to make half a smirk. "Ah, go ahead and ask her out," he waved, hoping it would curb his friend for the time being. "You know I couldn't say no. You're a good guy and Dani would be lucky to have you. But...try not to scare her."

Brock chuckled weakly and rubbed the back of his head. "Hehe, I'll make sure to curb my speech."

Ash smiled back. "Good." _And maybe your hormones, too. _

"Hey, you know what?" Brock suddenly proposed, already thinking of positive prospects. "If Dani goes out with me, then maybe we could go on double dates."

This promptly ended Ash's very brief crack of a grin. "Me?" he said in befuddlement, pointing to his face.

"You and Daisy too, Tracey," Brock eagerly invited, ignoring a clearly lost Ash.

"All right."

"Uh hello, why did you say me?"

"What?"

A groan slipped from Ash's lips. Everyone had proven to be easily distracted that night.

"Were you referring to _me_ about the dates?" Ash asked Brock, gazing at him as if his offering was nothing but implausible.

But the college student didn't think so. "Yeah," he said willingly.

This only furthered to perplex Ash, causing him to make a face. "With who?"

"Oh, that's easy: Misty!"

With a snap of fingers and lack of consideration, Tracey's innocent declaration turned out not to be so harmless. As his neck sunk into his shoulders, he earned a pair of stern eyes from Brock, while Ash stood utterly aghast. A long pause stretched out as three various stares were exchanged, only Tracey's eyes dashing between his companions. Evidently, his observations over the year weren't wise to state.

Sheepishly, the artist tried to break out a loose grin. "You were talking about Misty...r-right?"

Tracey's pathetic croak was followed by a quake of Ash's lips. Anticipating the worst, both Tracey and Brock watched the tension rise in Ash. From the tightening in his now curled fists to his narrowed eyebrows, he released an explosion of true defense.

"Uggh, why does _everyone_ think Misty and I are supposed to be together?!" hollered Ash manically, throwing his hands up in the air. "You think so, Grandma thinks so, heck, even Mom's become all buddy-buddy with her! I don't even think she _likes_ me that way! She didn't even bother to come see me when_ I_ invited her, so what does that mean?!- What?"

Another surge of silence passed by. Ash remained gazing at his friends for a reasonable explanation, panting slightly as he could feel the warmth of embarrassment flush his cheeks. Now rigidly looking to each other, Tracey and Brock seemed to communicate silently, which only egged a peeved Ash for an answer to bloom.

Eventually, Tracey scratched his chin and swallowed. "Well uh, it's just kinda..."

"Obvious," Brock finished quietly.

Forthwith, Ash's eyes softened. "Whadda ya mean?" he blinked. Then, the trainer squinted. "Are you saying Misty's had a crush on me this _whole time_?"

A blatant "no duh" would be willingly permitted by Brock or Tracey. Though, the two being civil, they kept their aggravated reactions to themselves and proceeded with careful words.

"We can't say for certain," started Brock slowly.

"But it did seem like she liked you a lot when we were traveling," Tracey added with a meek shrug.

All they received in return was an Ash with a gaping mouth, still succumbing to silence as he gawked at them. Apparently, this was a huge discovery for the teenager, now obtaining confirmation on something he had subconsciously been wondering about as of late. But now realizing his most recent and troublesome feelings on the matter...

"We've all had silly crushes," Tracey tried to ease, unsure if speaking up would ease the shock from his friend's face.

Brock broke out into a little smile. "I've had plenty," he admitted openly.

Now it was Ash's turn to give Brock a "no duh" look. It was then that the trainer's expression at last changed, though his lack of vocalization continued as Tracey went on with his words of assurance. "They come and go as we mature," he explained, patting Ash's arm. "It's nothing to sweat."

Nothing to sweat, huh? As in, it was no longer a big deal? That she no longer cared for him- like_ that_?

Steadily, Ash's muscles relaxed. The tension in his face ceased, his lips loosening incredibly as his eyes briefly shook.

"So she doesn't like me anymore?... Like _that_?"

They must have sensed Ash's brewing anxiety, for a hesitant shrug and meek smile by Tracey was given in response. "Who can say?"

Then, the grinding of teeth and groaning commenced.

"ARRGH!"

Taken aback with sincere perplexity, Brock stepped in. "What's the matter, Ash?" he asked anxiously.

"Just when I thought I had things figured out!- I just- and Harper said that my face- and now Misty!-"

"Whoa, slow down, buddy," the older trainer hurriedly eased once more. "You're gonna have to fill us in."

Between Ash's broken rambling, Brock wasn't sure what to make of his friend's sudden frustration, other than he was clearly flustered and that there was some underlining tension for Misty. Or at least understanding what he had been experiencing as of late.

In time, Ash was able to collect himself. The mild stares he was earning from guests forced him to take some deep calming breaths. He didn't want to draw any attention, especially since he hadn't even bothered confronting Gary. Something that had momentarily slipped his mind at the mere mention of the fond redhead.

Slowly, Ash's flustered eyes flickered back at his companions. "I'm sorry," he attempted to apologize shyly. "But- lately I've been feeling- I dunno... Different about her, I guess? I don't know if that makes any sense."

It sounded weird just confessing what he had been pondering over, the inkling of them being something more riding in the back of his head... However, surprisingly to the befuddled teenager, Brock and Tracey didn't seem the least bit perturbed. If anything, Brock gave him a quick understanding nod. To the love doctor, it appeared the hormones were _finally_ beginning to surface, kicking the fear of cooties to the curb and introducing a whole slew of new desires. One in which he knew Ash would need some guidance on. And being an amateur expert in the field of crushes, Brock was all the more delighted to lend some words of wisdom.

"It makes perfect sense, Ash," the college student began, wagging a finger. "Girls are not only the most beautiful creatures on earth, but they're also _the most _mysterious."

This, Ash speedily disagreed on. "Uh, I don't think they're more mysterious than Pokémon."

Brock laughed dryly at this. "Believe me, in a lot of aspects they_ are_."

"No, I don't know about that-"

"Okay, whether you agree or not, girls are hard to understand for guys. But you get it in time. As much as I've studied this subject, I'm still learning new things..."

Thanks to some movement in the corner of Ash's left eye, his thoughts were starting to trail away from Brock as he rambled on so passionately. His "words of expertise" were drowned out as the dark haired teen caught sight of Gary sneakily creeping out of the room. Gary glanced over his shoulders a couple of times, as if to make sure his parents, Prof. Oak, and Harper weren't watching. And they weren't. They were all too wrapped up in their own conversations to notice his quiet exit.

But Ash had seen it all.

_Where is he going? _he wondered silently, slightly alarmed as he was drawing closer to the main entrance. Then, instantly, his eyes shot open. _Is he seriously leaving?!_

It appeared so. His gaze refused to tear away as he watched Gary stealthily slink out of the room and towards the main entrance. There was no logical explanation Ash could think of as to why he would be leaving the dining room. Gary hadn't conversed with his parents, and with how subtly he left, Ash doubted he was so innocently going out to the car or finding the nearest restroom...

More than anything, he was afraid his one chance of finding his dad was slipping from his grasp.

With a raised hand, Ash abruptly interrupted the older trainer. "Uh, hold that thought, Brock," he said, his focus clearly straying. "I'll be right back."

And with that, Ash made a swift departure. Neither Tracey nor Brock had seen Gary get up and vacate the dining room. Only left wondering what exactly caused Ash's mood shift and where exactly he was heading off to now.

Sharing a glance, Brock huffed. "Jumps from one thing to the next." He then stared into his beverage. "Must be the sparkling cider."

* * *

The rumbling was faint but strong enough for the girls to take notice.

Both Misty and Molly ran outside, Gengar beside them with Molly's Misdreavus in tow. Immediately, the humans were entranced with the chaos ahead as they stood and gawked, the Pokémon also glaring with intense focus. A large waft of haunting smoke clouded the night air, the shouts of men's voices blending with blood-chilling fires of bullets and cries of Pokémon. Neither trainer needed to see the perpetrators of the sudden chaos to know who was responsible. Misty could feel her knees quake, her heart indescribably pounding as if it was going to rip right out of her chest. Her soft lips quivered underneath impending concern, her thoughts racing on what course of action to take. Should she remain with Molly and hide like Drake had instructed? Or bravely enter the face of danger? Every intelligible cry left goosebumps on the gym leader's arms, another rush shooting up her spine.

Her eyes became watery.

_Team Rocket... And Kelly... Did he?- Oh, Jayce, Drake!..._

"They found us..." Misty breathed mournfully. Then, her voice and stance suddenly changed. "Stay here," she instructed quietly, placing a gentle hand in front of Molly. She swallowed and narrowed her red brows. "I'm going to help."

"No!" Out of nowhere, the wheat haired girl stepped in front of the redhead, her arms stretched out with a firm stance. "If you're going then I'm going!" Molly insisted firmly, her lower lip sticking out.

But Misty shook her head, trying to keep calm. "No, Molly. You stay here. I don't want you getting hurt-"

"I'm not going to leave you out there, Misty, when I know I can help. We're sticking together. We're a team!" she reminded passionately. "My Pokémon are strong and I'm strong."

"And I don't doubt that," the gym leader countered with sternness. "But they have _weapons_, Molly. This isn't an ordinary Pokémon battle. Those people are not like the kind of villains you see in Saturday morning cartoons. They _will_ kill you."

"All the more reason for me to stay by your side," she kept on pushing, seeming unmoved by the reality in front of her. "Mr. Ketchum and Drake need the _both_ of us! Let's go, Misdreavus!"

Twirling, Misty reached a hand out, but her clutched fingers missed Molly's fast pumping arms. "Molly, no! MOLLY!"

In horror, she watched the preteen and the little ghost Pokémon wander further and further away from the property. Then, a loud clamor roared over the sky.

Looking up, Misty began to question her decision all over again. This wasn't the first occurrence in which the gym leader charged right in the middle of peril and meddled for the greater good. But this wasn't any ordinary Pokémon battle. Manmade weapons were involved, and she couldn't shake off the grave thought of being hit with a bullet or seeing one of her adored Pokémon suffer from a confrontation they might be unable to win. If they had come to not only snatch Jay but Suicune, too, then Misty doubted if the legendary beast couldn't escape unscathed, there was a slim chance she and the others would be of any vital use.

And yet- she couldn't abandon them.

At this point, Misty stopped thinking. Racing forward with a brave heart, she nodded to the awaiting Gengar and followed Molly into the darkness.

* * *

He saw an opening to slither out of the room, and so, he took it.

An unexplainable ache inside Gary informed him to either make nice or leave altogether. He hadn't expected Leah and Michelle to make such an astounding announcement, one that seemed to cause infectious smiles throughout the room. After witnessing such, bringing heavy disappointment and drama to the night was something he didn't wish to cause. Nor be the perpetrator behind the bombshell- even if he had made that haunting promise to Ash.

It was then Gary truly saw how deep of a grave he had dug himself.

What in God's name was he thinking? What in _all _the legendaries' power combined was he thinking? Proposing such a dangerous proposition as to tell Ash the whereabouts of his father? Apparently, while being consumed with raw jealousy and resentment, getting back at his cousin with that kind of dirty scheme seemed like the ideal route to follow. Looking upon Ash and his family as they bathed and shared in their own delights...and then to see how happy Harper was to be back in his company- How happy _he _was to be back in her good graces... Gary's conscience was finally seeping with heinous guilt. This surely had to be the lowest point for himself, the trainer believed. Outrageously asinine to think this would work without consequence. Love had obviously clouded his judgement.

_Severely._

So what was the infamous Gary Oak to do? He hadn't thought about the plan in-depth at this point, being too concerned with earning his girlfriend's affections back, having a few good laughs at Ash's disgruntled and lowly state. With his parents distracted and Harper in the midst of a conversation with Dani (strange enough), Gary excused himself from the table and tried to dream up a reasonable explanation if escaping failed. Claiming that all of what he said was made-up just so he could manipulate Ash wouldn't work on the raven haired teenager. In due time, Prof. Oak would reveal the truth to Ash and so, he would realize Gary was nothing but a nosy eavesdropper who took advantage of the situation. Or Ash would go blab to his mommy about the whole ordeal, which would further to corner not just Gary, but his grandfather himself. The man he looked up to. The one whom he hadn't even factored in as to how all of this would affect his reputation.

And besides that…Gary was well aware how abrasive and stubborn Ash could be at times if riled to his ultimate limit. He was the kind of person who could only be pushed so far before taking action. And when Ash took action, he didn't stop until the conflict caused upon him or some other unfortunate soul was resolved.

He was obnoxiously resilient in that way. Like him.

A shiver ran up Gary's spine as he wandered out the main entrance. Running away and disappearing seemed cowardly, but admitting to being blinded by jealously and revenge was much worse.

Especially to the trainer he had looked down upon for years and relentlessly mocked.

But, for one time in his life, exiting with no punishment for his actions wasn't going to fly.

"Going somewhere?"

The very presence the brunette was trying to avoid caught him red-handed in his little escape. Wincing to himself, Gary slowly turned around to meet the hard eyes of his cousin. To mask his uneasiness, he shoved his hands in his pant pockets and shrugged.

"Why would I do a thing like that?" he retorted.

Ash cocked a sharp eyebrow. "I could think of a few. Listen, I got Harper here, you guys made up, so now you owe me my end of the deal."

Gary's eyes hardened as if insulted. "I don't need you to reiterate the obvious to me, Ashy."

"Well, then?"

All that Gary could muster was having a staring match with his assertive cousin, eyebrows creasing further together as if to enhance each's intimidating glare. The words could not come out. The repercussions he could be faced with if he dared to admit such were too dire to take. There was no doubt in his mind that a severe punishment would follow for his manipulation and the failure to regard and respect the man who had been nothing but supporting and encouraging all his years. He may end up appearing as a loathsome instigator, but Gary wasn't about to let his grandfather's name go down in vain for his idiocy.

Folding his arms over his chest, Ash had had his fill of the silent treatment. Scoffing harshly, the teenager assumed a logical yet disappointing explanation. "You were lying, weren't you?" he threw back, causing Gary to gaze to the side. Ash scoffed once again and shook his head. "I'm such an idiot for believing you. You know, you're really something else, Gary. I have never met anyone so selfish and despicable in my entire life. So what are you waiting for? Go ahead, here's your shot. Call me a desperate idiot who's delusional enough to think he'd actually find his dad."

Ash's words stung his infected conscience, as if he had wielded a knife to his culpable heart.

"I wasn't lying-" Gary croaked bitterly.

"Then say _it_."

Meeting his gaze, Gary could see the anger swirling in his cousin's chocolate eyes. The hue had grown incredibly dark, a side he had seen in Ash many times before, but never like this. Never so…serious and almost- threatening. It made even the likes of Gary squirm uncomfortably in his skin. Ash's determination was far worse than something typical in their old training days. One being nothing more than a rematch or a take back for some cruel jab Gary dared to make. No. The look upon his face was plentiful evidence of Ash's stubbornness and his inner passion to locate his father.

No longer able to stand looking at him, Gary turned his focus to the side. "I can't," was all he muttered.

Ash made a face. "Why?" His eyebrows narrowed. "What half-ass excuse do you have now?"

Matching with his own sharp green eyes, the brunette looked back at his cousin. They appeared far more somber, though, his lids squinting in almost shame as he sighed. "Because I didn't think about whom it would hurt."

Once more, Ash was stumped. In return, his frown deepened and with centered focus he observed Gary's eyes linger away from his and to the dining room behind. Appearing confused, the dark haired teenager glared at him before abruptly turning his head to find the very person Gary was gleaming at.

With befuddlement instantly swept away, Ash turned to Gary and met him with a suspicious hold. "Why are you looking at Prof. Oak like that?" he boldly asked.

Gary felt himself stiffen. "I wasn't."

The urge to scoff was released. However, Ash controlled his agitation for a few seconds as he truly began to behold the uneasiness resting in Gary. He seemed strangely agitated, so quiet with a lack of flaunting confidence that this reaction was almost beginning to _worry_ Ash. Why wasn't his ex-rival laughing hysterically, calling him a "pathetic loser" who'd believe "just about anything involving dear ol' dad" to get him to do exactly what he wanted? If Gary didn't feel inclined to be cocky and outwardly congratulate his callous self for a job well done, then Ash knew his ex-rival didn't have enough tricks up his sleeve to deflect without fail. Gary's impregnable stance was growing frail and vulnerable, and in turn, Ash was becoming all the more stronger, and resentful.

Wondering, pondering- if Gary _did_ know something and therefore, couldn't come to grips with telling the truth.

But why?

Chocolate eyes gravitated to the renowned professor.

"Gary?" Ash called with a softer tone. It was then Ash was willing to give the brunette one last chance before he completely lost it. Gary wouldn't take the bait, though.

"_Gary_," he growled impatiently. Then, Ash snapped. "Gary, tell me where the hell my dad is, you creep!" he soon lunged, taking hold of his dress shirt with a mild shake. "Gary!-"

"Will you keep your voice down?" the brunette snapped, prying Ash's firm grip off his collar. "God, you don't even get it."

"Of course I don't! Because _you_ won't tell me anything! Does your grandpa have something to do with my dad? Does he know?-"

"Look, Ash, you're gonna find out soon enough. Just give it until tomorrow."

"_Tomorrow_?" he echoed incredulously. Ash shook his head and shot his ex-rival another glower of irritated puzzlement. "Wha- just what the hell is this, Gary? Why are you playing with me like this?"

"Just back off, okay?" Gary demanded for what felt like the hundredth time. "I'll make sure you know tomorrow. _I swear_. Now just drop it."

Ash gaped.

_Just drop it?_ Had Gary no feelings whatsoever? Was he completely void of human emotions- of what it felt like to lose someone so dear and precious?

No. Ash couldn't just simply walk away and let Gary go that easily. Years of indescribable pain, confusion, loneliness, and misconceptions had at last taken its toll. Dreaming wasn't going to cut it anymore. For better or for worse, Ash wanted the truth. He wanted to hear what happened to his dad. Where he was and why-

Why he left.

"No!" His thunderous acclaim startled Gary, backing up against a wall as Ash loomed over him with his muscular shoulders. "There is _no_ way I'm gonna just let it go! I've been patient for a long time. Too long, in fact, and you have no right to tempt me and then make fake promises!"

Articulately, a deliberate hand reached and snatched Gary's shirt collar once more. Pulling the fabric, he drew Gary near his face. His eyes turned the darkest shade of brown possible as he clenched his teeth and muttered his final stern command.

"You're gonna tell me _now_, Gary," demanded Ash in a deep low growl. "_Tell me_ where my father is."

The silence lasted for a few dramatic seconds, Gary's head titling backwards as he attempted to avoid the close contact of his cousin. Every time he stretched his neck, he could feel the tightening of Ash's fingers around his shrinking collar. The fabric rubbed uncomfortably close to his skin, his mind rapidly thinking of an answer to level Ash.

Joshing, contradicting, reminding, deflecting, all these methods usually worked one way or another…

Then, he spotted the presence that always made Ash think twice.

Eventually, Gary's eyebrows rose up. His sneer returned. Ash appeared surprised.

"Or what, Ash?" he said in a raspy tone. "Don't even kid yourself. If this was happening somewhere else I'm sure you'd take a swing at me and continue to berate me. But you wouldn't _dare_ do anything so stupid with this being your _mommy's_ big night."

In relief, he watched his cousin's face contort with reconsideration. Hesitation abounded as he could feel Ash's fist lose its strength against his now wrinkled collar. Little by little, Ash increased the space between them, his breathing harsh and slow as his chest rose up and down in a rhythmic pattern.

Then, Ash's hand dropped to his side.

Gary scoffed with a smirk of assurance.

"I knew it," he taunted.

Or so he thought.

Out of nowhere, Ash's glare intensified. His fist curled with whitening knuckles.

Gary's smirk dissipated.

Within a blink of an eye, Ash had finally lost it.

All that was raging through him was nothing but fury and disgust for the odious lies that had been dealt his way. After all the garbage he had put up with for the last two weeks, after completing _all _of Gary's bidding to a T and then to get nothing in return... He wasn't about to let his ex-rival have the last laugh, and he certainly wasn't going to be pegged as an obedient mama's boy. Ash didn't want to be the humble being in this instance. He wanted what he desired, and by all the legendaries above he was willing to do anything to make that clear to the teenager who had taunted him for years on end.

Filled with such driving wrath, the trainer's mind burst with pure revenge. At that very instant, he wished for Gary to experience the agony he had no choice but to cope with for years, and what agony he inflicted onto him for conceiving such an abominable web of false promises.

In one fell swoop, Ash charged forward and his fist went straight for Gary's nose. Recoiling, Gary's defense move was not quick enough, for he earned himself a rightfully deserved bloody nose. Stumbling back and hitting the floor, he groaned, barely giving himself time to exam the injury before lunging at Ash. In turn, Gary pushed his cousin onto the floor, the dark haired teenager catching himself by his elbows as his wild eyes met the dark ones of Gary. As predicted, the beginning of their scuffle did not go unnoticed for too long. But they didn't seem to care. Eyes already started to peer in their direction and yelps and gasps of utter shock followed immediately.

The hysteria was beyond overwhelming for both the ears and the eyes. Every action was fast-paced and violent; every scream was deafening and startling. No one had enough time to react to the sudden battle of brute strength as they watched it all unfold. The two young men grabbed one another aggressively by their shirts, turning every which way, and throwing punch after punch into the dining room. In the process, the pair managed to ram into a shelving unit, bringing down an entire collection of irreplaceable antique china. Due to the shock-wave, fragile pieces teetered and toppled onto the hard wooden floor, loud piercing shatters of shards of glass caused some to jump and shriek out of surprise. Picture frames swayed and soon fell as well, glass dispersing everywhere and onto people's shoes as they yelped.

No longer paralyzed by the shock of it all, Brock and Tracey immediately jumped up once Gary and Ash were in their proximity and pushed through the crowd. Their brave efforts, sadly, ended in failure, as each teenager pushed them back with a shove of their hands. Even at that, Brock and Tracey repeatedly risked themselves to get in the middle of the scuffle, only to be swept up in the panicked crowd, too far away to catch and corral the out of control boys.

In the middle of all of the chaos, Dani, holding Pikachu, watched in terror. On instinct, she too wanted to jump in the middle and break up the fight, but the firm tug of her mother silently told her to stay put. In her tightly bound arms, Pikachu struggled relentlessly to free himself from Dani's grasp. With his squirming body sliding against her skin, the girl tried to keep him safe and away from the fight, though she knew he was most likely reacting out of drive to protect Ash. Feeling the mouse's back legs dig into her chest, Dani had no choice but to release him and stop the mild pain he had caused in his frantic takeoff. As she placed a hand to her chest, she watched Pikachu land onto the floor and scurry off towards his master. She called him back in a fit of panic, now both she and Ophelia dashing to secure the mouse. Unintentionally causing damage, Pikachu interceding would make the situation worse rather than better.

Between people's jumping feet, the mouse swiftly ran, his agility increasing as he came in close contact with Ash. Naturally, he produced a small thunderbolt in hopes of shocking Gary and Ash to stop their destructive charade, only for the lightning attack to miss and hit a light fixture above. The sound of sparks flying and the crackling burnt-out light permitted more hollers to commence, people shoving each other to get out of the way of the brawling teenagers. To Dani's instant relief, she spotted a crouched Harper snatch Pikachu and move backwards fast enough before a tumbling Ash and Gary came her way.

Heels wobbled and soon Ash's body collapsed as Gary loomed over him, taking a fist to his nose in return. Feeling all the more enraged, Ash countered the attack by aiming his elbow into Gary's gut, causing him to stumble. Tightened ab muscles helped Ash rise to his feet, accelerating forward as he flung a slightly dizzy Gary onto a long side table. As their bodies landed on the wooden surface, the table snapped, followed with the demise of the various items stationed upon the tabletop. Glasses, plates, desserts all spiraled downward. The tablecloth then caught on fire as the candlesticks tipped over, its flames taking flight. Bright casts of burning orange and red intensified as it grew across the singeing tablecloth, screeching guests now scrounging up the courage to run past the wrestling teens and out of the inn altogether.

Standing on the side lines, Jessie and James exchanged looks of utter bafflement until James abruptly grabbed an open wine bottle from the food cart and raced to the scene of the fire. While his actions might have intended to be heroic, he was tragically unaware that the spilling of alcohol upon the fire would only strengthen the searing flames. Luckily, a couple of waiters stormed in with fire extinguishers from the kitchen, frantically putting out the spits of sizzling flames before the floor or anyone was officially damaged.

Despite people's interference, Ash persistently went after Gary and, in turn, Gary reacted just as badly. Remaining guests watched in absolute horror, faces turning white as they could hardly make sense of the scene themselves. While enduring hits and tasting the unpleasant flavor of blood from his nose and lip, Ash could faintly hear the music from the speakers fade into utter chaos as it mingled with the screams.

The screams and hollers of so many familiar voices.

Pikachu, Brock, Dani, Tracey, Ophelia, Michelle, his grandparents...

Delia.

His and Gary's names were repeatedly called out but apparently, until there was a definite victor, neither trainer was about to stop.

It was when the women finally pushed themselves to the middle of swarm forcefully did Leah, Michelle, and Delia turn to Ernest and cry for help.

"Oh my God! Ernest, _do _something! STOP HIM!" Leah was the first to screech at her just as equally bewildered husband.

"Dad, stop Ash! Please! _PLEASE_! GRAB ASH!" Delia too begged at the top of her lungs, her eyes becoming swelled with tears.

Without hesitation, Ernest valiantly continued his way through the throng, yelling to be let through as he solely focused on grabbing his grandson. He could already see Chad and Prof. Oak forcing their way through to get a hold of Gary, giving him reassurance that someone would be taking care of that punk.

Though Ernest wasn't about to be the only one to put Ash in his place.

Besides her already ear-piercing shrilling in his ear, Richard too followed the orders of his wife and proceeded into the thick multitude of frightened guests. Almost in unison the four men managed to squeeze out of the horde and instantly dive for the combative teenagers. Taking a side, Prof. Oak and Chad clenched Gary's upper arms and hauled him with his feet and fists swinging in the air. Reacting to shield his father from any possible harm to his aging body, Chad tightened his hold on his son and hollered constantly at Gary to stop.

Ash, however, was more difficult to contain. He incessantly tried to wriggle himself out of both Ernest and Richard's hold, his adrenaline pumped to the maximum level as he glowered at an equally panting and sweaty Gary.

"Ash, get a hold of yourself!" Ernest shouted in his ear, fighting against the intensity of Ash's raging muscles.

It was only when he felt his left arm ache from a sharp intense squeeze did he tear his eyes away from his ex-rival and to that of the furious icy blue eyes of Richard.

"That is enough! THAT'S _ENOUGH_, ASHTON!"

The explosion of Richard's deep voice bounced off the walls in profound echoes, causing all to fall dead silent and still. All that could be heard was the continual panting of Ash and Gary, their hearts wildly racing as they hazily looked about. Ash didn't have much time to center himself, though, feeling his arms be roughly compressed and twirled to face a furious, red-faced Ernest. Frozen, Ash felt a thick lump rest in his throat as he felt his grandfather's strong hands dig into his shoulders. From there, Ernest immediately saw the wild look in Ash's eyes, which furthered to baffle the man all the more.

"What the hell is the matter with ya, boy?!" he yelled, shaking him. "Have you lost your goddamn mind?!"

It was thanks to those words that reality came back into focus for Ash. Recognizing the rightful anger he had created in Ernest's eyes, Ash's softened and turned to look at the havoc he had carelessly caused. Nostrils inhaled and exhaled slow breaths, his heart rate having difficulty decreasing back to its normal rate of pumps. Feeling the tension at last flee from Ash's body, Ernest loosened his grip, which allowed his grandson to fully turn and see the array of ruin across the room.

What had he done? The once beautifully decorated dining room had been completely destroyed, as if a hurricane swept in and vandalized all the efforts that went into creating the lovely crafted room. Broken glass, torn flowers, ripped tablecloths, and remnants of Michelle's glorious food were scattered throughout the scene…

And it all was because of him. _He_ did this. He, Ash Ketchum, tarnished the very night that meant everything to his family. The night that they deserved to bask in and celebrate their success and credit the woman who made this inn a reality. And for what? To send a clear message to Gary that he was not a force to be reckoned with? For the selfish desire to at last know about his father?

The man who should have been there.

Consumed with indescribable guilt, Ash shyly met the eyes of the astounded spectators, scrutinizing him like he was some leper among a sea of normal mortals. Though their judgmental gazes could not match the motherly presence he saw stepping out among the crowd.

Almost as if she was sedate, Delia gradually wandered into the center of the room, stopping a good distance between her and her son. Her flushed cheeks and tearful eyes broke Ash's heart as she stared at him was such hurt and amazement. Witnessing her pain and enduring his own, Ash nervously darted away from his mother than back to her. Words were impossible to form as they went on peering at each other. He wanted to speak. Oh God, if Ash knew the right words to mend what he had done he would proclaim them with sincerity. But nothing was coming to him. Nothing that would rationally justify what he had done nor could he even begin to confess what bad decisions had led up to this point.

Quivering lips, however, eventually did part and a gravelly voice emerged.

"Mom…" he called weakly.

But she remained unmoved. Delia's body was perfectly still as a tear rolled down her cheek. She too didn't know what to say. What to think.

"What have you done?" she cried in a soft whisper.

Ash's heart instantly sunk.

He had never seen her look so hurt before… Not since that night. Nor did Ash think she'd ever gaze at him with sincere disappointment- Not like how she looked when she thought of him. Delia was beyond livid. She was incomprehensibly stupefied and lost for words.

She was ashamed of him.

This had to be the worst moment, one of the worst feelings in his entire life. No longer able to handle the stares of those around, Ash stormed off with the start of watery eyes. He sped off fast before Richard or Ernest could grab him and went straight for the front entrance.

"Ash, wait!"

Having a horrible ache of suspicion in his gut, Brock exchanged a glance with Tracey and the two chased after their friend, posthaste with Pikachu right behind. As he jogged past them, Brock motioned with his hands to Ash's grandfathers that he'd handled this, which they both allowed after feeling rather defeated themselves.

Outside, Ash ran down the road a little ways before he huddled his arms around his body, his head hanging low as he released a sudden surge of tears. From there, he fell to his knees, kicking up dust as it flew and danced with the summer night air. As his body pulsed due to his profound sobbing, his head dipped further down towards the ground, internally beating himself up for the disgrace he had brought upon those who did not deserve such sorrow.

He wanted to take everything back. To reset time completely….

The touch of a furry paw to his hand was enough to snap him briefly out if his crying fit, looking to the side to find a rightfully concerned Pikachu rubbing his leg out of comfort. Then, the call of his name followed. Repeatedly.

"Ash!"

"Ash!"

It was Brock and Tracey, which prompted Ash to rise back up as they slowed their paced and stood before him.

"What is going on with you?!" Brock outwardly asked, his rightful befuddlement wavering as he tried to catch his breath. "What the hell happened in there?"

Out of anger and distress, Ash began to spill his gusts. "It was all a lie! It was all a lie..." he muttered pathetically, tears gliding down his cheeks all over again.

"What was a lie?" Brock asked in blatant confusion as he gently took his young friend by the arms. When he received no coherent reply but more cascading tears, the worry began to strain on the trainer's heart. "Ash, tell me!" he soon commanded.

"Gary! That bastard!" the midnight haired teenager declared with a vicious snarl and sniffle. "I was stupid enough to believe him! And now look at what it's cost me!"

"About what?!" Tracey blurted, completely lost.

"About- About - About Dad!" Ash finally proclaimed, another surge of sadness starting to emerge and take hold. "I thought I could find Dad because Gary said... he said… Oh, Dad!"

The growing pain in his head and eyes became unbearable, though the tears refused to end as Ash felt himself become weak. Falling forward, Ash's blubbering carried on into Brock's arms. As his face rested against his strong chest, Brock could feel his friend's tears soak through his dress shirt. But he did not care as he held Ash in a firm brotherly hug to help ease his never-ending wails.

He couldn't believe what he had just heard that it nearly delayed his automatic words of comfort.

"Shush," Brock tried to assure with a shaky hand. "I-it's o-okay…"

"No," Ash mumbled, wheezing to catch his breath. He could feel Pikachu jump on his back and snuggle into his hair. He immensely appreciated their kindness, but it was not enough to wash away the guilt he believed he deserved. "I've ruined everything!" the trainer carried on. "It's all my fault! I'm such an idiot! And Mom- the way she looked at me… Oh God- she hates me!"

Brock continued to sooth him. "Ash, shush... Shush... It's gonna be okay. Your mom does _not_ hate you... She's just upset. But we're gonna fix this. We will."

Could they?

Inevitably, he and Tracey knew nothing was going to be smooth sailing from here. After Ash's shocking reveal, the two trainers exchanged equally paired looks of dread and fright, unable to comprehend how all of this spiraled out of control. How in Ho-Oh's name did Gary find out about Jay's whereabouts? Piecing what he could together, it now made perfect sense to Brock that Gary's "bidding" was nothing but some cruel deal for Ash to get information about his father. Something that Ash had blatantly lied about, and now Brock felt like a fool for believing his friend about Gary wanting to steal Jay's belongings and the avoidance of involving Richard and Delia. Ash's behavior was an obvious enough sign something was extremely off... But he would confront Ash on his fibs later. As of now, all he wanted to figure out was how the hell Gary knew about Jay. And Brock was determined to be the one to accost Gary, and make him confess his little game to Prof. Oak.

However, Brock knew being rash and angry wouldn't solve anything.

As his sniffles lightened, Ash pulled away from Brock's grasp. He shook his head and wiped his wet face with his sleeve. "No," he rebutted lowly. "It's too late."

"No, it isn't," Brock argued sternly.

"_Yes, it is_!" he sobbed with a more insistent tone. "I've messed up everything! I let my wants stand in the way of my own judgement! I knew I shouldn't have trusted him, but when Gary said he knew where Dad was and why he's been gone, I just...I just couldn't take not knowing anymore."

As his head dipped down towards his chest, the volume of Ash's voice dropped incredibly. His entire body shook as more tears commenced, his rawest secret revealing itself in shameful woes. Brock and Tracey knew how Ash had longed for his dad, but never did they fully analyze the repercussions he had endured due to the silence.

Brock soon sighed and ran a hand through his now messy hair. Utterly lost on what to do, he glanced back at Tracey who shrugged in return. They exchanged somber looks, unsure if they should say _anything_. In Brock's eyes, the silence had claimed Ash's rightful curiosity long enough, and the waiting game in telling him about Jay had been stretched out too thin anyhow. The timing and how it was all happening though... It wasn't ideal.

Eventually, Brock took a deep breath. "Did Gary tell you anything?" he started cautiously.

Ash shook his head and sniffled. "No. He refused to say anything. He was probably lying all along, anyway. And I was dumb enough to believe him... I know he practically hates me, but I still don't understand why and how he came up with a lie like that!"

This was one of the few moments in which Brock felt his anxiety had grown to be unbearable. Bravely, he sucked in a full breath of air. "Ash, listen to me. There's something you need to know and it's not gonna come easy...for any of us."

"Wh-what are you talking about, Brock?" Ash asked, smearing another strand of tears from his reddened face.

Now they really had no choice. Quietly, it was decided Brock should be the one to relay the details. He was supportive and calm when situations of hysteria needed a voice of reason. He just hated to be the one to announce such an unfathomable revelation to his already unstable and upset friend. It wasn't supposed to be him, anyway. It was supposed to be Prof. Oak- and Dr. Strayer now, too. _They_ were supposed to handle the most challenging part of it all. And Delia was supposed to be present. But with the way Ash was looking at him- the hurt in his eyes… Brock didn't want the lies to continue for any longer than they already had. It'd been far too long of a wait. And with Gary now knowing, it was all going to come out. It wouldn't surprise Brock if Gary was confessing to Prof. Oak at that very moment. Or that he would stubbornly deny such accusations...

Inhaling one more deep breath, Brock braced himself and placed his hands on his friend's shoulder. He hoped he wasn't going to regret this.

"What Gary promised you...it's not as crazy as it sounds."

Ash made a face.

"Wha-?"

The older trainer swallowed and paused. From the corner of his eye, Brock could see the impending panic claim Tracey's face and the undeniable befuddlement in Ash's.

Slowly, Brock breathed out. "I don't know how Gary found out…but your dad- Prof. Oak's trying to help him."

He could see the initial shock change Ash's face; his skin turned pale, his chocolate eyes dilated, his lips moved rigidly as he was unable to release a croak. Under his grasp, Brock could feel Ash shake yet stayed frozen stiff at the same time. Ash said nothing. As if he was incapable of releasing words. So Brock continued as evenly as he could.

"Your dad's in trouble," the older trainer cut to the chase with a direct tone. "He's been on the run from Team Rocket this whole time he's been gone. He did- something when he was a teenager- I can't explain all the details, but your dad stopped them before they could go through with their plans. After that, your dad was able to go undetected by Team Rocket. He married your mom, had you... No one ever knew about this aside from Prof. Oak.

"Your dad claims that during his last few months with you and your mom, Team Rocket found him and wanted him to pay for what he had done. He left you and your mom because he was trying to protect you. Giovanni threatened to _kill _you both if your dad told you guys. So he left. That's why he's never contacted you. And now Team Rocket's up to something else and your dad's still trying to stop them-"

He finally spoke.

"How do you know this, Brock?" Ash quietly asked with somber eyes. His voice intensified in bewilderment when he didn't receive a reply. "How?!"

It was then he at last jerked himself free from Brock's sturdy hold, shell-shocked chocolate eyes piercing back. Brock's eyes flickered with a similar solemn shade. "You want the truth?"

"Yes, I want the truth!" Ash replied as if it was that obvious.

Steadily, the Pokémon-doctor-in-training swallowed again. Tracey glanced briefly at him with intensified concern. They prayed Ash could handle this.

"Because your father told me."

It was that very second Ash felt like he could no longer breathe. The world around him froze on its axis, everything before him dead still. Nothing seemed reachable, fathomable...nothing felt real. He wondered if his ears deceived him, feeling as if he had been hit out of left field. Struggling to have oxygen reach his lungs, Ash's racing mind wondered if this night couldn't get any worse. If it couldn't become any more strange. The idea alone of Brock communicating with his father... It wasn't possible. There was no logical explanation. Unless...

"I- I haven't been honest with you about a few things, Ash," Brock started again, upfront. "Especially why I came to Pallet- to see you. When we were in Fuchsia, Misty and I ran into your dad and after we told him we were friends of yours, he explained his situation involving Team Rocket and recruited us. We wanted to help him. I came here to help Prof. Oak and Tracey research exactly what Giovanni's up to, and Misty's with your dad right now. Team Rocket has been after him, Ash. For _ten_ years he's tried to stop them from-"

"Stop! Just stop!" the dark haired teenager cried, shaking his head in disbelief with waving hands. "This isn't real! This can't be possible!"

"Ash, I'm telling you the truth!" Brock said more forcefully. He took no pleasure in seeing his friend in such a distraught state, but he had to confront the situation head on. "I know it's a lot to take in, but you need to know! Look, I'm sorry we've waited this long to tell you, but it's more complicated than you think. Prof. Oak will explain everything later. Giovanni is seriously out to get you and your mom and your dad was just looking out for you in your best interest!"

Giovanni out for his father... It explained so much, and yet, left so many questions unanswered.

It was then Ash came to realize he and Delia were _the reason _for his dad's departure. Not because he was sick of them, fed up of his domestic, mundane, and ordinary life... But because of the threat held over their heads. Of what could happen to those he loved most above all. It was selfless. All the hope Ash had carried throughout the years for Jay had finally paid off. He wasn't a deadbeat dad, a coward lingering in the shadows of his own self-hate and unfulfilled goals- He was a hero looking out for them.

All alone.

It took him a few minutes, but eventually Ash swallowed as another set of hardened tears streamed down his cheeks. "Where is he?" he asked softly but with a grave tone.

"Last time we heard from him, he was past Lavender Town," Tracey took a turn explaining, giving poor, rundown Brock a break. "Listen, Prof. Oak knows much more about what happened with Team Rocket than Brock and I combined. I'll go get him and we can sort this out-"

"No- No!"

His manic cry surprised the both of them.

"Why not?" the Pokémon watcher questioned in sheer confusion.

"Because he knew this whole time!" Ash cried furiously. "Prof. Oak knew and he did _nothing_ to help Dad!-"

"Ash, it's not like that," Brock tried to reason.

"He could have told Mom and me! Instead of pretending like everything was just fine and that he had _no idea _what was going on! Team Rocket wouldn't have known if he said _something_-"

"Your dad was paranoid and distressed!" defended Brock. "He didn't want you guys to know! He _ordered_ Prof. Oak not to tell anyone. Believe me, the professor wants you both to know. He was planning on telling you guys tomorrow!-"

"Prof. Oak didn't have to listen to him! And you didn't have to, either!" challenged Ash, exhausted by the excuses. "All this time, Dad's been running for his life and no one's done a thing about it?! He could have been hurt, sick, maybe dead now-!"

Brock released a groan and rubbed his face. "Ash, that's not true! Prof. Oak_ was_ and _is_ helping him-"

"Why now, anyway?" the trainer continued to ramble irrationally. "Why is this happening all of a sudden?!"

"Because your dad thinks he can get help from the Pokémon League!" Tracey intervened, growing just as impatient.

"Why's that?!" Ash belted again, intensifying the screaming match.

"Because he's- he's-"

"SAY IT!"

"Because he's the Pokémon Master!"

Once more, the color in Ash's face drained. His lips suffered another quake, and his feet stumbled back as his heart nearly ripped from his chest. His reality had taken one more good beating, everything turning dark and unfamiliar...as if everything was against him. Nothing felt palpable. Lies and secrets and thoughts of betrayal consumed the teenager as he struggled endlessly to come to grips with the news that had been delivered. On any other given day, Ash would shout for joy. His lips would form an exuberant smile and he would bask in pride knowing he was the son of the greatest Pokémon Master that ever lived. The man he had always believed in, the one who had inspired him to journey on and become a trainer...

But he couldn't. There were no smiles. No hollers of joy, no rise in confidence. All Ash could think about was how long this had been kept from him and _who _had been kept from him. It was already difficult to accept that he hardly knew his own father, but to feel distrust and leeriness towards Prof. Oak, the man who had been a mentor to him... The professor who had been deceitful to his mother, intentionally or not- none of that could easily be forgiven or comprehended. Whatever Jay may have said, Ash felt he and Delia had every right to know. How they had suffered long enough... Ash thought, if anything, he could be of service. He could be of use to the situation. And now Brock, Tracey, and Misty had also struck a sensitive cord in his heart... Some of his closest friends. The ones he knew he could always rely on.

Or so he thought.

"I..." Ash choked on his words. "I... I can't-"

From there, he promptly turned on his heels only to have Brock reach and call out, "Ash, just hold on!"

"You_ lied_ to me Brock!" Ash shouted, swatting his friend's hand away with an intense glower. "You _both_ did! A-and Misty!... How could you guys do this to me?! I thought you were my friends!"

"We _are_ your friends!" Brock hollered, equally as hurt. "Ash, I care about you like you're my own brother!-"

"Oh, yeah? So it's typical of you to stab your own brother in the back?"

"Don't chuck accusations like that at me, Ash! Tracey, Misty, and I are only trying to help! You know we care about you! We were just following the orders of your dad and Prof. Oak!-"

"You could have said _something_! But you didn't!" Ash challenged, growing hysterically combative. "Y-you decided to leave me in the dark like everyone does! Like it always has been! And I don't need to be protected! I could've helped!-"

Brock groaned loudly. "Ash, for God's sake, just _listen_ to me! I know you're upset! You have every right to be. But you can't treat us like we betrayed you!"

Immediately, Ash's eyes went cold. How could he not?

"You did, Brock! You _all_ did. And now I know that Dad's been protecting me this entire time- and now- and now it's my turn to protect him!"

And with that, there was no stopping Ash. Even with Brock and Tracey's persistent yells and hurried footsteps for Ash to return, the trainer refused to comply. With a slightly scared and addled Pikachu on his shoulder, Ash pressed on down the road with headstrong thoughts and tears motivating him forward.

He had run off in the darkness of summer's night to reach his own resolution.

* * *

The ringing of bullets firing off never seemed to cease.

They were trapped. Cornered behind a pair of thick-barked trees as their endless fires kept the relentless Team Rocket grunts at bay. For the time being, that was.

The dastardly villians had already injured Dragonite in its left wing by another Mightyena attack, prompting Jay to advise they return all their Pokémon back to their pokeballs and stick to guns only. He had been in predicaments like this several instances before, and after his Typhlosion earned a nearly deadly injury back in Johto, Jay preferred to take the battle into his owns hands versus sacrificing his companions for his own life.

As one bullet was launched after another, it was amazing for Drake to see how many effective shots Jay fired; nonetheless, there seemed to be a hefty supply of men. Faintly, they could hear the orders of Cassidy and Butch, but between the shots firing off nothing could be made out clear. Other than that they were obviously refusing to retreat.

Drake was the first to pant out heavily in distress, steaming streaks of sweat travelling down his forehead as he struggled to stay on guard. Before turning to Jay, he panted again, waiting to gain his brother's attention as Jay stealthily shot off another set of rounds.

They heard the cry of grunt. One more was down and fifteen odd more to go.

It was hopeless to think they could keep this up.

"I don't know how much longer we can hold them off," Drake soon proclaimed hoarsely.

"They're not going to stop until they have me," Jay replied and swallowed. He looked at a nearly winded Drake and a deeply concerned Kelly. "Just get out of here with Kelly and find the girls."

Kelly's brows lowered. "But Jayce, you do understand the repercussions if you turn yourself over to Giovanni-"

"I know," the master cut him off. Drake gave his brother a peculiar look at his hastiness to end the topic. "But I don't think I have much of a choice at this rate. Just go," Jay said again firmly. "Before they kill you both-"

_EEEEK!_

It was at that very moment something so horrifically sharp rang in all ears. An unbelievably ear-splitting screech echoed profoundly in the area, all falling prey to the paralyzing cry. With hunched shoulders and hands pressed tightly over their ears, Jay, Drake, and Kelly attempted to drown out the cringing sound. The men couldn't even distinguish the shocking yelps from the agents on the other side, who too immediately covered their ears. To those suffering its blow, the screech seemed to last forever. However, it was much shorter, though nonetheless damaging to their eardrums.

Immediately after its abrupt takeover, Jay attempted to raise his head, only ordering his comrades to quickly duck.

"LOOK OUT!"

At the time, the darkened sky prevented him from making out what was coming there, but the feeling of something cool trickling down his neck gave the master a good idea. Three powerful streams of water and bubbles shot directly over Jay and the others' heads. Between minor splashes caressing his neck and head, he could barely see the silhouettes of where the water attacks originated before a chilling, ghostly presence floated above them and fired an explosive shadow ball towards the ambushed grunts. Once the attacks ceased, it took them a moment for any ounce of coherency to return.

A cloud of dust floated throughout the forest, moans and croaks emerging, as the aftermath settled. No one had anticipated such a surprising ambuscade, especially consisting of three different attacks. Though after that shadow ball was launched, Drake knew without a doubt who was behind this little move of defense on their part. The islander was the one who taught the creature the attack, after all.

"Gengar!" Drake called out into the distance. Eventually, the Pokémon revealed its presence, creeping behind its master with its usual disturbed grin. His suspicions were confirmed. "Thanks for covering us," he made sure to praise the ghost type, but then hurriedly turned to Jay and Kelly. "If Gengar's here, then that must mean the girls are nearby."

Jay was gob smacked. "_What_? God dammit, Drake! They _shouldn't_ be here!-"

"You think I know don't that?!" the islander yelled back just as manically. "I left Gengar with them for protection. I didn't tell them to follow me!"

"You shouldn't have left them alone in the first place!" Jay boomed, the intensity of the situation and the foreboding dire consequences consuming his frantic mind.

And apparently, his brother's mind as well.

"And just_ leave_ you?!" Drake fired back, aghast with narrowed brows. "If it wasn't for me, you'd be!-"

It was at that point Kelly was about to intervene before their position was given away, when the old man peered ahead and spotted two shadowy silhouettes running towards them.

"There's no time for bickering! Look ahead!" he said, his exclamation forcing the brothers to cease their argument.

When they finally captured a decent outline and casting of their shadows, both Jay and Drake shakily rose and raced towards the girls.

"Misty! Molly!"

Kelly followed after, glancing over his shoulder anxiously as Jay and Drake were too distracted by the girls to keep watch. As the mens' feet quickened, so did the pace of the two figures coming their way. The first to fully emerge out of the dark tree line was Misty, her three creatures tagging along behind. Her pumping arms and legs propelled the gym leader forward and soon she instantly collapsed into Jay's arms. The master barely had a chance to catch his balance as she flung her arms around his toned frame and clung to him with a racing heart.

"Mr. Ketchum!" she cried out, tightening her hold. "Oh, thank God! I thought-I thought!-"

She was about to squeeze him with a sigh of relief when Misty surprisingly felt Jay hug her back. A loose, fatherly embrace was given in return, Jay placing a gentle hand against the back of her head. He wasn't exactly sure how to react at first, the notion of being cared about, being looked up to... For almost a second, it felt as if he was holding his own child again.

Keeping a level head, Jay gave a calm reply. "I'm fine, Misty," he assured, pulling the redhead back at arm's length. "And I'm assuming Drake led you to believe to doubt Kelly?"

"Well," Misty started quietly, "yes and no." She hated to make assumptions, and now seeing Kelly was still in their midst her concerns were falsified. That much she was glad to be wrong about. But she didn't particularly feel joyous about Jay's bloodied toned shoulder. The gym leader had just noticed its unsightly presence when she pulled away from Jay. Silently, she recoiled at the smeared blood, obvious bite marks, and tattered clothing, her heaviest sympathies going out the man. Misty couldn't even begin to imagine what kind of brawl Jay had gotten himself into, let alone how he was still managing to carry on without batting an eye. He must have been in pain, but made no facial indication of it as he started speaking before Misty could even question about his wound.

"Listen, whatever Drake told you, Kelly _is_ here to help. He's been working _against _Team Rocket. He was trying to warn me."

"I knew it!" Molly interjected.

Jay just ignored this and kept speaking. Then, his eyes had sharpened for some reason. "I'll explain all the details later. But as of now, you and Molly_ don't_ belong here." At this point, the master could see the start of tears forming in Misty's eyes and how she tried to mask them with the smearing of the back of her hand. His own eyes then dampened. He appreciated her caring nature, but seeing the teenager in the midst of a dangerous situation only furthered his fueling anger and insistence for them to be out of the picture.

"Of course we do!" Molly contradicted, little fists tight in front of her chest. "We came to help!"

The wheat haired girl was now standing next to Drake and Kelly, her Misdreavus floating beside her. Jay assumed the girls located them more easily with the two ghost types and now seeing she had Misdreavus with her, the master assumed it was the very thing that made that horrific screeching. Obviously, she and Misty were well equipped with their trained Pokémon and own personal strategies. But taking any unnecessary risks _wasn't_ an option. The girls safety came before his own, and Jay wasn't about to place them in the line of fire just to save his own hide. Even if they still couldn't comprehend that unwavering principal.

"I'm not arguing with you girls," Jay cut to the chase sternly, "now get out of here! They'll be ready to attack again at any minute."

"Not if Misty uses her Gyarados," Molly continued to debate. "We were saving him for last-"

"Using Gyarados would be foolish," Jay extinguished hotly. God, he was beginning to wonder if the girl what just damn stubborn or too naïve to even understand the gravity of the situation. "Not only is it probably lacking hydration thanks to its confinement, but if it even comes out of its pokeball let alone _fires_ an attack, it will destroy the forest_ and_ the Pokémon within it. It's bad enough Team Rocket's caused this much damage."

The lake was a reminder of that. And all the native creatures flying and scurrying to escape the sudden peril. Some surviving, some being caught in the blast... And then there was Suicune-

Jay tried to shake off that thought.

"Drake and I will handle this," the master carried on, his voice growing all the more firm and serious. "Now do as I say and _go_."

Two sets of worrisome eyes exchanged a side glance. Another sharp glower from Jay and motion of his head prompted the two female trainers to leave- until surprisingly, Misty turned, looking back at Jay with a quivering of her lips. Arguing was senseless, downright stupid at this point, with the enemy feet away. And she knew from behind her, Molly had quietly given up her argument, mostly irked by Jay's harsh glare than anything. Yet, for some odd reason, she couldn't move.

She couldn't let them lose him again. Not if she could help.

"I-"

It was at that very instant Misty's mouth dropped that an array of bullets dispersed into the air. As fast as they humanly could, the trainers all fell to the ground, taking each other with them. Jay's hands speedily pushed Misty and Kelly downward, all three tumbling in unison. Only a couple of seconds behind did Drake shove Molly as well, but to his unfortunate fate, could not meet the security of the tall grass as his companions did.

The feeling was unlike anything Drake had ever felt before.

If he had dodged with a couple steps sideways, it would have missed him. The excruciating pang was unbelievably rapid and lasted with a relentless sting that lingered unlike any minor injury he had suffered from surfing. In horror, with a cranked neck and fuzzy eyes cast behind blades of grass, Jay watched Drake stumble back and soon grapple his arm with a howl falling from his mouth. Then, he crashed harshly with a dooming thud.

Jay's pupils dilated. "DRAKE!"

His sharp holler was bound to have given their position away, though at this point this went unapparent to a terrified Jay. Without a second thought, the master rose, dashed, and immediately dove to his knees. He was now sitting up before a fallen Drake, who appeared rather shell-shocked and absorbed in serious pain. At his sides were Kelly and a pair of trembling girls, completely aghast as they struggled to locate where the bullet had landed. Obviously, with the islander still breathing, it wasn't in a spot in which instant death would occur. But with the lack of medical equipment and the quickening of rushing blood- death was already beginning to linger, and it petrified Jay.

"Oh my God!"

The master loomed over his brother with a cry, his chest pounding incredibly as he tried to collect himself. Faintly, Jay could see his brother's shut eyes squint, a mild moan emerging as he tried to come around to his senses. In a somewhat restrained panic, Jay grabbed onto his brother's shoulders and shook him a little.

"Drake, can you hear me?" When he received no response, his anxiety rose. "Drake!"

"Yes..." A croak at last fell from Drake's lips, now feeling Jay's hand lightly pat his cheek. From there, the islander tried to sit up with his one good arm by its elbow, his hand then immediately clapping the injured area of his other arm. Then, between clenched teeth he winced. The throbbing pain in his head from where he landed precariously to the searing, indescribable discomfort in his upper arm left it difficult to stay composed.

Eventually, he tried speaking. "It went straight through," Drake breathed gravelly. Slowly, he moved his now coated bloody hand away to reveal the gunshot wound to his petrified brother.

Jay cringed. "Shit," he cursed under his breath.

The islander sucked in another unsteady breath. "The bullet's not stuck."

"But you're bleeding profusely," Jay reminded strongly.

In a frenzied state, the master tore off the pocket from his jacket and patted it firmly over Drake's wound in hope of coagulating the blood. Wild eyes dashed all over his body to locate another piece of clothing he could easily sacrifice tearing, only to be aided by Molly who tore off the bottom trim of her skirt. After that, Kelly struggled, but eventually removed a sleeve of his shirt. And Misty even went as far as to remove her shirt, shredding the bottom of the garment and morphing it into a midriff top. Due to her barely spoken voice of defiance, she felt horribly responsible for Drake's tragic hit, doing anything she could do to aid in the situation. Awkwardly, she handed over the piece of cloth, which Jay took just as awkwardly, his eyes gleaming to the ground to give the young lady respect. He could see Kelly and even the injured Drake looking away as Misty hastily slipped her ruined shirt back on.

Once all three vanquished the tattered scraps of garment with shaky hands, and Jay's hands worked to wrap it around the gash. The master continued to glance over his shoulder, unsteady hands attempting to tie a knot over and over as his fingers continued slipping. The looks of complete fright in the young trainers' eyes and shuddering bodies added to Jay's already heightening trepidation. Again and again he felt his palms become saturated in more sweat, watching torn garments flood with more blood.

Deep. Red. Pouring. Blood.

He was failing to protect Drake. Failing to protect all of them.

Eventually after a deep shaky inhale, Jay was able to make a secure knot in the makeshift bandage. Instantly, he wished to breathe out some kind of sigh of relief, only to hear sharp, muffled, female shrills mingling with a masculine gasp and shuffling of feet to be free. And then he saw the pure fear and disturbance in Drake's face; not from his agonizing arm, but from what stood behind them. With tightened muscles, and a hand reaching for his side, Jay was about to rise and turn with his gun, when he abruptly sensed the haunting presence of a shadow behind. The master's neck snapped up.

He felt the barrel of a gun against the back of his head.

"This is where the chase ends, Ketchum."


	24. BOOM!

**Author's Note: **Long time no see my lovely readers! :) Hope you all have a had a fun and relaxing summer!

I know... it has taken me nearly all summer to write this chapter and post it. I've been occupied with an overwhelming amount of family obligations as well as at last opening and running my Etsy shop. No vacation time what so ever, but I've been immensely relishing my own little shop. :)

My beta reader can vouch for me though... after reading this chapter herself she was quite amazed and could see why it took me so long... still, I apologize for the delay and thank you all once more your continual patience, support, and absolutely wonderful reviews. It means more than I can ever express!

As I've hinted above, this chapter has to be one of the most INTENSE chapters yet. And I can tell you now, each chapter is going to rise with more dramatics and stakes. Much more to come from Team Rocket and even Pallet's simple folk!

We are definitely in the final countdown with about seven more chapters to go! I'm so excited to be wrapping up this story in the next months to come. I'll be starting school in three weeks, so I hope even with classes, I can manage posting a chapter or two every month. ;)

Thank you all again for waiting and I truly truly hope you enjoy this newest edition of _Sunlight's Return_!

**DISCLAIMER: **_Pokémon_ belongs to Satoshi Tajiri. My oc's belong to me.

* * *

**Sunlight's Return**

**Chapter 24**

_BOOM!_

It felt like a nightmare.

But the disaster before her reaffirmed Delia that this wasn't so easy to dismiss as nothing more than a night terror.

Most had already left the vicinity, while only a few stayed behind to aid in cleaning up the messy dining room. To say what happened was embarrassing was an understatement. Either looks of sympathy were given to the Parker family, or utter frowns of smug disapproval. The mayor had given his half-attempted condolences quickly as he left, his wife right behind him with a snobbish smirk and skip to her feet; this only added another unfortunate memory of the night.

Like a drill-Sargent, Michelle immediately took charge to relieve the distraught Leah and Delia, and assigned jobs to her kitchen staff as well as the servers. Giving out commands channeled her anger towards the wreckage in a productive manner. Other than that, the entire inn was coated in silence, subtle facial cues the only forms of communication.

Even so, as much sweeping, rearranging, throwing away, and salvaging what materials they could- none of it seemed fixable.

Sitting down at one of the few fortunate tables to be left untouched, Delia sat with a hand resting on her forehead, her elbow balanced on the tabletop as she stared downward. The initial shock was still lingering as she tried to wrap her head around everything that happened. She was, to put it in simple terms, embarrassed, confused, and completely blindsided by Ash's behavior.

What had happened to her sweet boy?

Standing beside her was Michael, offering comfort with a hand on her shoulder. Leah, Ernest, Ophelia, and Dani were also scattered around the table, all staring at one another with continual shakes of their heads and disgruntled sighs.

Eventually, Delia was brave enough to break the silence.

"Tonight... Tonight wasn't supposed to go like this. And Ash-"

She had stopped herself short, her face falling further into her hands as a deep breath was sucked in.

In response, Michael bent down to his knees and eased the woman. "Everything is going to be fine, Delia. We're going to find Ash."

"I just- I just don't understand... how could this have happened? W-why would he do _this_?" she emphasized, now looking up and gesturing to the ruined dining room.

Frowning in disgust at the chaos, Ernest caught sight of the tears returning in his daughter's eyes, then he looked to his equally overwrought wife. Nothing could describe how disappointed and downright _mad_ he was. He kept himself together for the sake of his family and his own stress level, yet the farmer couldn't easily let go his desire to know _why_ Ash did what he did.

Whatever Ash confessed, Ernest just hoped it better be a damn good reason. Already, he had dreamt up a good dozen punishments to settle the matter for some minimal amount of justice. Eliminating his training and hours spent at Prof. Oak's lab were a given. And as far as Ernest was concerned, Ash could kiss goodbye another journey for as long as the farmer felt appropriate. The typical punishments of washing dishes, laundry, vacuuming, and dusting were going to come with his grounding if he had anything to say about it. Overtime at the farm was another obvious choice, whether that involved cleaning the Rapidash stalls, herding the Mareep, fixing any worn areas on the fences, tiling a new garden bed for his grandma_ and_ mom just for the heck of it...

The list went on and on.

Eventually, the farmer turned his attention to a questioning Delia. "I don't know, honey," he replied, his forehead wrinkled. "But this ain't your mom's or your fault. Brock and Tracey tried to reason with him- but Ash's not willin' to talk right now.

"Listen," he continued, "you stay with your momma, and let me get Keith and Rick and we'll go find Ash. Hopefully, he hasn't wandered off too far. And when I find him, he's gettin' a _long_ talk from me and then some. You can count on that."

"I would really appreciate your help, Dad," Delia thanked him, though she knew she'd have to intervene before her father gave any sort of grueling lecture. She and her sister had been subject to plenty of those as teenagers.

Before Ernest could leave and round up his handworkers, Delia spoke up again. "But I can't stay here," she said, a hand slightly out to single him to sit back down. "I have to go find Ash myself."

"Delia, no," Leah urged. "It's pitch black out there. You don't know-"

"Mom, you know I'll be _crazy_ if I just sit here and do nothing," her daughter interrupted. "Besides, Ash might have gone back to the house. I know it's likely of him to be wandering around, but I just need to check there first."

That Leah couldn't deny.

"You wanna try calling the house first?" Ophelia suggested.

Delia shrugged. "I can, but if he's there I doubt he'll answer. I'll check there first, and if he's not there... I have a good idea where he could be."

"Where might that be?" Michael asked.

"My secret hideout when I was a kid. I- I showed it to him a long time ago."

Ernest knew exactly where Delia was talking about. While she had fond memories of that woodland hideout, his were quite the opposite- after all, most of those times were spent with the likes of _him_.

The farmer nodded. "I can look there if you'd like. I'll go round up Keith and Rick and we'll start lookin'."

"Thank you, Dad," Delia said behind misty eyes.

Another nod proceeded before Ernest left the group, heading towards his awaiting handworkers and soon taking off.

One more short moment of stillness passed until Leak found enough strength to speak. Hugging her arms close to her body with worn and fragile eyes, she turned to her eldest. "Ophelia, could you please take Dani home and check on Rex and Fly? Those poor dogs have been locked up long enough and I know you and Dani are worn yourselves."

She nodded. "Sure, Mom. It might be a long shot, but maybe Ash wandered off into the pasture or something. We could check out there."

"That would be a huge help, sis," Delia replied with sincerity.

Ophelia nodded. "I'll call you both to give you an update."

After their exchange, she strolled off with Dani following close behind. It was then that another person found it an ideal time to take his leave. Especially since all he could hear was an appalled and flabbergasted Annie in the entry of the inn.

"And I'll give you two some breathing room," Michael said to Leah and Delia. He looked ahead. "I should probably see how Sam, Annie, and Chad are doing with Gary."

Both women silently nodded in return as the psychologist too left the room.

Then, they both gazed at each other before Delia buried her face into her hands. "God, I feel like I haven't apologized enough," she mumbled, rubbing her temple. "Not to you, Michelle, Dad, Annie and Chad...the whole town."

"Delia, you don't need to say you're sorry," Leah insisted, her hand reaching out to touch her daughter's. "None of us could have predicted Ash behaving like that."

"If I had I would have _made_ him _stay home_," Delia grumbled.

"Has Brock or Tracey told you anything?" her mother asked out of curiosity.

"No," the woman sighed. "They said he just was upset and ran off. Everything was fine earlier this evening!" Delia exclaimed, still puzzled by it all. "Ash was fine. _We_ were fine. I just don't understand any of it."

"Well, I don't think Annie and Chad do, either," Leah replied, turning her attention over her shoulder. "They're still grilling Gary with Sam."

Gary. Delia wasn't exactly too happy with him either. This was one of the few times she permitted Ernest to grumble inappropriate words about the teenager. Yes, Gary was not in Delia's good graces _at all_, but she still knew he wasn't fully to blame for the destruction left behind. She knew Ash had acted shamefully, and as to why was what truly stumped the concerned mother.

Eventually, Delia breathed deeply once more, looking away from the mess around her. "Annie, I will have to talk more in the morning. Discuss damages." Then her eyes flicked up. "And Emily and Richard are _still_ here-"

"I insisted for them to go home, but they wanted to help," Leah explained. It was more like Emily barking at Richard and Zelda as to how to clean up rather than any real pitching in. Though Leah would have to ask them to leave soon if Emily dared to get mixed up in Michelle's orders.

Before Delia could reply, her mother-in-law herself suddenly appeared at the table. She had marched up to them at a fast pace, looking slightly amazed and irritated with Richard and Zelda right behind.

"What do you plan to do, sit here all night?" Emily exclaimed, looking directly at Delia.

Zelda frowned at this. "Mom," she started softly, "Delia just needs a minute."

"Yes, Emily. _Please_," Richard agreed, rather annoyed as he approached the table. "Give Delia some room. We've all had a terrible night. I think it's only right the poor girl gets a few minutes to collect her wits."

"I understand she's upset, Richard," Emily answered with an exasperated tone, "but we can't just sit around and do nothing! Ash is out God knows where and Annie won't let us interfere with Gary- Oh, I could just smack him upside the head for what he's done!"

"You and me both."

They all were caught off guard by Michelle's two bits thrown in as she swept on by. Knowing her mild animosity towards Gary, however, it wasn't much of a shocker.

To prevent the conversation from continuing any further, Leah spoke up to fill in Delia's in-laws. "Ernest and his handworkers went off to look for Ash if that gives you any comfort," she announced, more so to Emily. "I also sent my daughter and niece, too."

"Well, that's hardly a search party!" Emily huffed, her hands slapping at her sides.

Turning her head, Leah and Delia made a silent exchange. Then, knowing Emily wouldn't get off her back until she exited herself, Delia rose from her seat.

"I'll call if I find him, Mom," she said under her breath.

Leah nodded back as Delia left the table, walking past her in-laws and Zelda as she threw her purse over her shoulder. Unfortunately, she didn't get too far before she heard Emily's heels clicking behind her.

"Where are you going?" she dared to interrogate.

"Off to look for Ash," Delia answered, as if it was obvious.

"You're certainly not going out there alone."

"I'm just going to look at the house, Emily."

"Well, have you tried calling?"

Delia stopped and faced the woman, aggravation shown upon her face. "I was just about to on my cell. My dad's checking the road past Sam's lab so I thought I'd check at the house in case Ash eventually shows up."

"If he's looking up the road, then I'll send Richard and Zelda into the main part of town. Perhaps he wandered back this way."

Finally, Emily actually thought of a helpful idea rather than pointing out all the discernible negative points of the evening.

Looking past Emily, Delia drew her attention to her father and sister-in-law. "Do you mind Richard, Zelda?" She was fully aware how worn and putout Richard was by Ash's behavior, even though he had done his best to break up the scuffle.

Richard shook his head and gave a faint half smile. "Not at all."

"It's perfectly fine," Zelda added.

"I'd appreciate it," Delia soon thanked.

A brief moment of silence passed before Richard looked to his daughter and then to his wife. With a slight motion of her head, Emily urged him to move. Richard breathed heavily through his nostrils at this.

"I'll go get the car, then. Come along, dear."

Once the father and daughter were out of sight, Delia too was about to at last make her grand exit and head home. That is, until Emily stopped her right in her tracks- _again_.

"And I'll go with you."

Delia immediately shook her head and waved her hands. "That's not necessary-"

"Oh, stop being such a martyr," Emily rolled her eyes.

"That's not what I was doing-"

"You're obviously in a fragile and ruffled state that you'll need someone to do some more disciplining when Ash comes home."

"I think I can handle Ash just fine on my own-"

"Please, Delia," Emily moaned, tired of the back and forth bickering. "If you could handle your son on your own then this wouldn't have happened. I'm getting my purse."

If she truly wished to escape Emily now would have been the ideal time! But Delia knew running out the door was just as childish as Emily's own behavior. As would replying to that snide comment, as much as Delia was tempted to do so...

Instead, she looked up to the ceiling and silently groaned. _Oh, hell!_

While the emotionally exhausted woman lagged behind her mother-in-law, two scheming pairs of eyes peered over their shoulders from time to time. Taking broken shards of glass and collecting them into garbage bags were Jessie and James. The two subtly eavesdropped on the conversation going on, alerting them to the plan the Parker family was about to execute. They overheard a bit of Leah and Delia's conversation, then before Delia officially left with Emily, the pair watched as Brock and Tracey pranced over, both willing to help clean up any further mess. Not too long after that, Delia arranged with Leah's consent for Brock to stay the night at her mother's house. She wished to deal with Ash privately, especially since Brock had already tried his fair share of getting Ash to reason. Even though he still neglected to explain the entire situation to Delia...

When he and Tracey spoke with Prof. Oak earlier, however, Sam insisted he'd handle it. The professor also requested for Tracey to stay with Leah and Ernest, implying he had his hands full with Gary and for Dr. Strayer to provide any emotional support or consultation for Delia in regards to Ash. Yes, it was a reasonable cover up. Even Jessie and James weren't entirely aware of Prof. Oak's intentional plan...

Yes, Ash Ketchum had surely caused quite a ruckus. He had ruined their chances of a perfectly laid out kidnapping, and now with a whole herd of people out wandering around town...their shot at fulfilling the mission was looking all the more slim to achieve. As did Meowth fervently remind Jessie when she messaged him the details.

"I didn't think this would happen," Jessie admitted, mumbling to her partner as they went on working. "So much for Plan B. Plan C wouldn't even be appropriate for this turn of events."

James's eyes strangely brightened at this. "You know Jessie, if Plan A, B, and C aren't exactly compatible with our given situation, perhaps we shouldn't go through with the mission after all-"

"And wait another how many more days?"

He should have known better.

"That's not an option, James!" Jessie hissed with a disapproving glare when she didn't receive a reply. "You know we can't back out now. The boss is counting on us. We'll just have to find the twerp ourselves and lure him back to the house. Or at least, have the SWAT team look around and keep tabs on him until he goes back to the house."

"But how? We can't leave. Not when they'll be expecting us to help clean up."

"Then we'll sneak out," she decided as if it was so obvious. "Eventually, everyone is going to want to go home. They can't make us work to the bone. But until then, I'll keep in contact with Meowth. And you will so innocently out of concern ask for an occasional update on the twerp's whereabouts."

That seemed doable. Keeping low and still forging ahead with the plan. But still, James was trying to find some kind of reason that would flub up their scheme.

"But Jessie, what if-"

"We have to do this, James," Jessie reminded hotly, fed up with his attempts of weaseling his way out of the mission. "We've been waiting long enough. It's time we prove ourselves to the boss that we're bona fide agents once and for all. That we _can _execute something sufficiently."

Executing something sufficiently... Funny, usually that's all it would take to get James to agree. And yet, he still couldn't see eye-to-eye with Jessie.

* * *

His feet had grown tired, but he refused to stop.

Wandering further and further into the night, Ash and Pikachu traveled down the road. They had already passed Prof. Oak's lab and were trekking up the hill. Ash had no clear direction as to where he was running to, other than to be far away from the chaos he had created back in the main part of town. The muscles in his entire face ached, a severe migraine emerging as he struggled to grapple not only what he had done, but the confession that had fallen from Brock's lips.

It didn't make sense; none of it seemed possible...

Unexpectedly, Ash's stomach clenched and soon came the urge to heave. On the side of the road in the grass, he ferociously vomited, his stress levels berserk as his stomach panged for a release of its contents. Stress had taken a physical toll on him, taking the trainer a good few minutes to collect himself. He felt so unbelievably sick, almost worse than what any flu could give him. The unpleasant taste of blood still lingered in Ash's mouth, its scent and flavor causing him to replay every punch and crash he had endured from Gary. Reminding him how the entire night was shot to hell. And now, the blood mingled so disgustingly with vomit.

One repulsion for another.

The aftershock of everything involving his father left the teenager desperately attempting to rationalize it all. If he wasn't so angered by Brock, he'd demand to speak with Jay and have questions answered right then and there. But he couldn't go back. Ash couldn't look Brock in the eye.

He couldn't erase all the horror that had transpired.

With Pikachu cooing in his ear for comfort, Ash eventually stopped puking, now spitting to rid his mouth of the revolting taste. Steadily, he sucked in a deep breath and attempted to stand up straight. His breathing was a little shallow, his body aching and quivering as he began to walk again.

Ash could still see his mother's face. The look of hurt he had only seen once in his entire life. Then he saw flashes of Brock and Tracey, and Misty-

…and him. At least, what he could remember of him.

The cast of frozen blue eyes behind midnight bangs penetrated his soul, the only physical characteristics perfectly pictured in his mind.

Jay had been in danger all this time. His imagination ran with every scary or unbearable thought of what his father could have possibly suffered, causing goosebumps to surface on his skin. He himself knew what it was like to travel in harsh, unforgiveable conditions, but that was when he had his friends. When he had supplies, when he had money his mother mailed to him... Jay must have been so alone. So cold and depressed. Huddled somewhere, hiding for his life, with hardly anyone to turn to, to trust... In so much emotional and physical discomfort.

All this time everyone thought ill of him and now- now Ash knew he could free himself from the pain of not knowing... But now there was the pain of doubting, of never trying to look for his dad himself... Scrunched eyes led to the rehashing of tears and a few hiccups of verbal cries in between. A hand rose and wiped each eye, his facial skin raw and red from the continual rubbing.

Something inside Ash- something spoke to him. It was sudden and rash, yet could not be suppressed. He couldn't stand by any longer. Now having a basic understanding of why his father left, what he had been enduring for the last ten years... He needed Jay's selfless efforts to pay off. And Ash was going to help.

It was his turn to protect Jay.

At the moment, he had no clue where Jay was or where to even being searching. But that could be easily solved by calling Misty. He would do that once he was on the road. Once he had gathered everything he needed...

After what had transpired at the inn, departing from Pallet seemed ideal anyway. Though the trainer knew his mother wouldn't approve of his out of the blue departure, and would be all the more heartbroken, Ash's emotional drive couldn't be swayed. He wasn't going to bother explaining his abrupt exiting to anyone and he wasn't going to let a single soul stop him. If he wanted to flee from Pallet without anyone intervening, Ash knew he had to run back to the house immediately, grab what minimal supplies he could as well as his pokebelt. A note left behind on the kitchen counter should suffice. To briefly state how sincerely sorry he was...

With a deep breath of strength, Ash's gaze drifted towards the moonlit sky.

_Don't worry, Dad. I'm coming._

* * *

"Put your gun and pokebelt on the ground. DO IT!"

No words could perfectly describe the terror Jay was experiencing.

Steadily, he rose and turned around to face a threatening male grunt, flinching just slightly at the gun inches away from his face. From there, Jay carefully raised one hand up, the other reaching for his 'belt and removing the spotted gun as instructed. Again, one hand unclipped the 'belt, the strap falling to the ground as minimized pokeballs clanged onto the rough terrain. Finally, both hands went up, the master's breathing slow and paced as he tried to stay even.

"Take it easy," Jay warned. "You have no idea what you're getting into."

He hoped his cautious words would have provoked something defensive in the grunt, but all he received was a scoff.

"'Course we do," the agent sneered, his weapon directed at the master's head. "It's you who's clueless. You've risked a lot here, Ketchum. Your friends... They're right in the middle of our little game."

He didn't need to be reminded of that. Without looking, he could sense the overpowering fear in Misty and Molly. Their muffled shrieks a strong indicator of that. They were grabbed roughly by their wrists, arms twisted uncomfortably to their backs while glove-covered hands cuffed their mouths. Pools of tears began to emerge from both girls' eyes. In desperation to ease her heightened stress, Misty made a pathetic side glance to Molly, though before her visual message was made her assailant harshly pulled her focus back forward onto Jay's back. Her cheeks were snatched rather aggressively as her head jerked ahead, shaking uncontrollably with endless prayers to the heavens above. What Misty didn't know was that Molly caught onto the gym leader's silent communication thanks to a shadowy presence behind a distant tree.

Off to the side was Kelly, who was also being held against his will in a traumatizing manner. One grunt had inhumanly knocked the old man to his feet forcing him to lie on his back with his hands wrapped behind him in a precarious state. His desire to stand up was evident, but was soon suppressed by the slamming of another foot on his back to stay put. Jay cringed at the faintness of unpleasant sound, fueling his inner anger all the more.

And then there was Drake. He was held down on his knees with two exceptionally burly men at each of his sides. His arms were also contorted around his back, the searing pain in his injured arm forcing him to release a blood-curdling gasp as he tried to repress the start of tears. The immense agony and the pressure of a loaded gun being pressed against his head left him in a state he had never experienced before. A flood of too many emotions and surges of panic raged through his body to react, though his restricted state was much weaker than his actual desperation to break free and intervene. All he could now was endlessly pray Jay had another trick up his sleeve to get them out of this. That and the obvious shadows lurking in the darkness would intervene at the appropriate time...

From the corner of his eye, Jay too could see something ominous shift in the lower tree branches, but similar to Misty, he was ordered to look towards his attacker.

"Don't try any funny business," the agent informed sharply. "You already got yourself royally screwed over with your family and all, despite your selfless efforts."

_His family?_

Jay stiffened. "What are you saying?" he glowered, his temper flaring by the latest comment.

The grunt laughed dryly with a smirk, the others joining in on the diabolical chortling. This only furthered to confuse Jay, his glare casting a harsher gleam as he silently demanded an explanation.

Eventually, the grunt collected himself and spoke. "You honestly didn't think you could protect them for this long?" He studied the master. "_You did?_ Well, I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but I'm afraid your family is being fetched as we speak. At this very minute. Possibly already getting acquainted with the boss. He's excited to meet them."

_Meet them? _A ghost-like complexion consumed Jay's face. His mind swirled, his eyes dilated, his heart began to pound rapidly within his chest- Once again, the agent took delight in the indescribable shock that had paralyzed Jay entirely.

"It's funny how things work out," the criminal chortled. "In the end, it's their lives for yours."

Only a slight quiver of the lips emerged. No. No that couldn't true. This _couldn't_ be happening! Giovanni couldn't have captured Delia and Ash! No. No, Jay had fought too damn hard to keep them out of harm's way for that abhorrent villain to succeed. This had to be an act of desperation to coax him in. An ugly and bold deception.

Jay struggled to stay calm, silently examining the grunt for any sort of indication that the man was lying. Then, his eyes narrowed. "You're bluffing," the master eventually snarled.

The grunt cocked an eyebrow, hardly moved. "Now why would I do that? You should know better than anyone to take the boss's word seriously. Face the facts, Ketchum. It's too late for your family. Giovanni has already sent out a team of agents to nab them and that professor of yours. And there's nothing you can do about it."

"So come quietly with us," the one grunt pinning Kelly down added, "and you'll see your family."

At the mention of Delia, Ash, and now Prof. Oak- Jay knew his hopes had officially been dashed. It was like a bullet had struck through his heart and left him frozen, unable to feel anything as the shock consumed any ounce of hope he had left. If they were aware of the professor as Jay had always feared, then his impending nightmare was indeed starting to unfold. And there was nothing he could do about it. He was hundreds of miles away, the cellphone reception out there a long shot... For all he knew, his family and friend had already been nabbed and taken to God knows where. And if that was the case…

Running away was no longer an option.

The long pause stretched out an unbearable length. Between Jay's inner conflict he was tormented by the tragic whimpers of the girls and Kelly, and the agonizing gasps and groans from his brother. This was the worst pinch he had ever been in, trumping any instances involving treacherous waterfalls and ropes tied around his wrists and ankles with a gag. Everyone that was involved, everyone he wished to protect was swept up in the middle of his own ongoing journey to salvation. And so, while it was a long shot, Jay was desperate to at least spare those he could at the present time.

"If I go with you... will you let them go?" the master asked quietly.

"Jay, no!-" Drake's protest ended quickly by a gun being pushed firmly against the side of his head and a continual jerk on both his arms.

The agent considered this proposal for a couple of seconds. "Possibly one of the girls. If you hand over the feather that is."

Jay's heart instantly sank at this, and the agent hurriedly caught on to the master's appearance of despair.

"Don't have it on you, do you?" he snidely remarked. "'Cause you're not selfish enough to withhold it when someone else's ass is on the line."

A sweaty fist coiled into a tight hold, Jay's fingernails nearly digging into his palm out of stress and hostility. With burning eyes of contempt and distress, he observed the agent swiftly pull out a walkie-talkie from his belt. He couldn't begin to anticipate what was to flow from the villain's mouth next.

"It's me," the grunt spoke into the device, obviously speaking with another fellow member. "Tell the SWAT team in Pallet Town that Ketchum doesn't have the feather. Try his house-"

"It's at the lab."

The sudden blurt perked both the attention of the agent and Jay's comrades. All fell dead silent as they stared at the master intensively. It took the head grunt a couple of seconds for him to blink and then demand harshly for Jay to repeat.

"What did you say?-"

"Prof. Oak's lab-"

"Jay, _sto_!-"

This time, an awkward side-blow to the gut with a foot was given to Drake for his outspokenness. Jay winced and stiffened as he watched his half-brother moan in pain, the islander's watery, bloodshot, disapproving eyes barely lifting to meet that of his brother's. Jay didn't need anyone to tell him that the information he gave out was irresponsible and dangerous. But when the words "his house" were uttered- no one could go there. Not one Team Rocket grunt would step inside _his_ home where _his _family lived, where _they _were safe...

Where they were _supposed_ to be safe.

That still didn't justify putting Sam and Tracey in peril. But Jay was desperate. Not on his life was he going to place Delia and Ash in harm's way.

But he still had to contend with the abrasive grunt and somehow free his comrades from further damage...

A sharp hissing of discomfort from Drake's mouth rang in Jay's ears.

Swallowing, he eventually spoke up with a more stern tone. "I told you that much, now will you let them go? I know you could give a damn, but my friend is wounded and he needs medical assistance-"

"You mean your brother?" the agent cut off. For another time, he enjoyed capturing the shock in his prey's face. "'Fraid not, Ketchum. They _all _need to die."

That last word alone provoked an escalation of fearful sobs from the others. Jay was trapped, damned more likely, no matter what course of action he took. Begging on his knees he would without protest, but it was obvious the agents would find his desperation more comical than sympathetic. There were those presences lingering in the bushes, and if he could just glance to the side for a brief moment to get someone's attention...

As the master did so, a very faint rustle was made in the dark shrubbery followed by two eerie silhouettes lurking closer and closer as each surrounded the grunts. A slight motion of his head was all Jay needed to give.

Then, oddly enough, he smirked himself and looked back at the agent. "No way to negotiate then, huh?"

"Like I said, it's one life for another."

"One life for another... Fine," Jay decided. "Then it's your life for theirs."

Only a quick showcase of surprise flashed in the grunt's eyes before he felt speedy and sharp needles sting his back. Simultaneously, the agents waiting and still somewhat rattled in the distance were hit with gushes of water; more moans and hollers proceeded as they fell once again. Then, the thugs holding Jay's companions hostage were attacked out of nowhere by powerful ghost type attacks. It was enough to free the girls, both fleeing with stumbling feet, and soon Kelly and Drake were freed from their rather painful and awkward holds. Drake could hardly sit up and he coughed as he finally felt he could release some kind of breath of relief. Kelly too was unsteady and incoherent; his aching back barely arched as he fuzzily watched the next shocking attack take place.

As fast as the actions around them happened, Jay took advantage of the situation and dove for his gun on the ground. While the grunt before him had been ambushed with a ruthless spike cannon attack from Corsola, he wasn't about to go down without a fight. In just a few split seconds, it was Jay who claimed victor, shooting the agent in the forehead before turning to shoot the criminals who had held Kelly captive, then the two burly men who had further harmed his brother- those two received a few extra shots, to ensure their girth would not keep them breathing.

Spinning around with a tight hold, Jay now wielded the weapon at the two immobilized and quivering agents who had originally secured the girls. At this time, both Misty and Molly were able to break free, gasping and trembling as they scrambled to Drake and Kelly's side. Then, they watched Jay's next move unfold.

"Lower your guns and set them on the ground._ Slowly_," he ordered firmly with frightening precision, as if he had performed similar actions before.

They were hesitant, but the grunts eventually complied with his requests. With caution, the master took one hand and retrieved the vanquished weapons, making sure to keep his own gun leveled in the assailants' direction. Then, with a gesture of his head to come forward, Misty and Kelly silently drew close knowing what Jay had requested yet hesitant about doing so. Kelly was physically weak, limping as he took a gun from the grass. Misty was too mentally and emotionally petrified to make a move, until Jay made another motion with his head to act quickly. She could vividly see her hands shake wildly in the dark, struggling to hold up the gun and point it. Aiming at them.

Everything at this point didn't feel close to resembling anything like the gym leader's typical reality, though the gun being clenched in between her fingers only confirmed the nightmarish world she had waltzed into. Rattled was a simple word to describe her current state, and she could sense the intense aches and pains Kelly was enduring. And the threatening glaze in Jay's eyes.

"Get on your knees."

The master's calm, haunting instruction led to obedience, both agents trembling noticeably as they did as ordered. It was not only Jay and his comrades who now appeared intimidating, but the assortment of proven Pokémon lurking behind, ready to pounce if need be.

Jay's face grew dark. "Now, you tell me exactly what you know about my family or I will put this bullet right. Through. Your. _Head_. I'm not shy about doing it _again_."

Sharp shivers ran up multiple spines, not only that of the disadvantaged grunts, but of Misty herself. She wasn't sure what to make of this side of Jay. What to expect next.

Not much time passed for Jay's tolerance to grow thin, his eyebrows narrowing closer together as another stormy cast consumed his face.

"Where is Giovanni planning to take them? Dammit, WHERE?!" he belted.

With the gun just flinching slightly, one of the grunts finally piped up. "To Headquarters on Mt. Hideaway. He's using them as bait to lure you."

Jay made a face. _Mt. Hideaway? No... I should have known... Of course he'd rebuild Headquarters. And station it right where he could watch them..._

Cursing to himself internally, Jay knew he'd have to save beating himself up mentally for another time. Within seconds, he snapped out of his inner thoughts and turned his focus back onto his enemies.

"When did the kidnapping commence? Answer me!" he roared with more intensity.

"Nine twenty-six," the other agent decided to interject. "Nine twenty-six is when they were told to close in."

Nine twenty-six? Looking up at the glowing moon, Misty was certain it had to be past that time. Her nervous eyes could not make of what Jay was currently thinking or what he was going to do.

Knowing they were most likely too late.

It felt as if a long stretch of time passed as hearts raced with anticipation, waiting with escalating suspense for Jay to at last say something. Blue eyes became colder, more vulnerable and yet somehow stronger. For what the grunts hoped would be a surrendering turned out to be something entirely unexpected.

Eventually, Jay looked up at them. "I want you to call it off."

The second agent who spoke up fumbled. "Wha-?"

"Call your team in Pallet and call off the kidnapping. Unless you'd prefer to be like your partners."

That chilling reminder showcased the fear in the agents' expressions, two pairs of eyes just barely casting their way to the bleeding, lifeless teammates strewed across the now tainted grass.

One on the contrary, however, one managed to stand his ground. "You seriously think we're gonna do what you say?" he scoffed.

Some consideration was put into it before Jay bent down, his presence just a short distance away from the grunt as he loosely maneuvered the gun with a stoic glower. "May I remind you, you're the one on the ground with your weapons in _my _possession," he retorted coldly, squinting with a defined frown.

In return, a staring contest commenced between the uncooperative agent and Jay. It had lasted only seconds until Misty caught sight of glove-covered fingers moving and diving towards the back of the other grunt.

Her heart instantly leapt into her throat.

"He!-"

A deafening shot was fired off just in the nick of time. For a moment, Misty became frozen, petrified by the booming sound, wondering to herself if she was the one who had released the deadly shot. Luckily for her, she wasn't going to need any therapy for at least that kind of guilt.

Jumping to his feet, Jay was quick enough to shoot the provoked grunt in the chest, and then took the other one out immediately after. Both made a great thud to the ground, the immediate danger removed at the present moment, giving Jay and others just enough time to get away.

And to think of a new plan altogether.

The master was panting nearly as much as Misty. He met her eyes briefly with a quiet thank you of her alarmed interjection. Then, he proceeded to move.

"Misty, what time is it?" he asked while collecting the hidden gun the agent had tried to pull out.

Her head swirled, taking a few good seconds to pull her cell phone out of her pants pocket. She turned the device on. "I-it's nine fifty-five," Misty nearly stuttered.

"Shit." Oddly, Jay paused. "Hand me your phone."

"What? Why?-"

"I need you and Molly to help Drake," he instead instructed. "Take your Pokémon and outrun the grunts. Go as fast as you can. Kelly and I will follow from behind." There wasn't any time for debate, for the master had already turned his focus onto the older man, coming to his side.

"I'll help you walk in a minute. Just hold on."

Kelly gave a short nod as a thank you before Jay hurriedly began to mess with Misty's phone. It was an obvious time to not be laughing, but he nearly scoffed at himself as he realized how out of touch he was with technology.

The sound of his brother hissing under his breath forced Jay to glance up, seeing the girls help him to his feet. The islander silently thanked them and somewhat insisted by his movements he could walk alone, but Jay knew better than to push Drake even if it was only his arm.

"Drake, just hold on and breathe steadily," Jay eased. "You're going to be treated soon, I promise."

He watched Drake's eyes squint shut with his head hanging low, before eventually looking up. Then, he shook his head. Drake knew his brother all too well, already anticipating what the master was in the process of doing.

"Jay," Drake breathed unsteadily, "you can't call-"

"He's already after them... I have to warn her."

As his finger entered each number of his past home phone, Jay could feel his heart rate increase rapidly, its pace heightening dramatically as the final digit was entered. Then, he pressed the phone to his ear.

He had a signal. It was weak but it was alive.

There was one ring. Then two. Then three. Then four. Then five...

Then the answering machine played.

Jay swallowed. And spoke.

"Delia, it's me…Jayce," his voice shook. "I know I'm the last person you expected to hear from, but before I can tell you anything I need you to do exactly as I say without question. You need to get the hell out of Pallet. Immediately. Take Ash and drive to Viridian. Then, head to the police station and call Sam. He'll explain everything. Everything that I wrote in the letter will be explained. Please, Delia, I'm begging you to trust me. You're not safe. They're coming-"

The message reached its capacity as the signal suddenly dropped.

* * *

She barged into the house frantically.

She had called over and over again as she walked down the road and nothing. She could hardly see a thing as she gazed out into the long meadow plains. Even after Ernest claimed he had checked the house for her, Delia ran back home anyway with Emily right behind.

Hoping her not-so-little-pumpkin anymore had come home soon after her father had left.

Cloudy chestnut eyes darted from side to side inside the domain, Delia's movements rapid and feverish as she repeatedly cried out her son's name.

"Ash? Ash?"

Entering in soon after, Emily followed her daughter-in-law into the house and began her own investigation. She traveled up the stairs at a fast pace, calling out for both her grandson and Pikachu. First, she meandered into Ash's bedroom and when there was no sign of his presence she checked the bathroom, then Delia's bedroom, and the empty one they used for storage...

Nothing. There was no Ash. Not even an indicator he had stopped by. The house was locked when they arrived and all the lights were off except for the porch light and a small lamp in the living room. With her heart beating wildly, Emily hurried back down the staircase and found Delia in the living room, who appeared utterly beside herself as she stared blankly out the patio door.

Of course, this went unnoticed to an equally panicked and unnerved Emily. "I just went upstairs, he's not there. Not him or Pikachu," the older woman stated, slightly winded by her anxiety.

Even with her confirming declaration, that didn't stop Delia from crying out to her son. Tears began to swell once more as she walked back into the kitchen. "Ash?"

"Aren't you listening, Delia?" Emily shouted, perplexed by her behavior. "Ash isn't here!"

But Delia kept it up.

"Ash! Ash!"

And then Emily matched her volume.

"Ashton is missing!"

"I know, I know!"

At this point, Delia honestly felt like she was losing her mind. She was having difficulty collecting herself and thinking out her next needed step. Especially with her mother-in-law badgering from the side.

"Then what do you suggest we do?" Emily retorted, throwing her arms up in the air, annoyed with Delia's reactions. "We need to call the police! What if he's lost or was picked up by some predator-!"

"Emily, please!" the auburn haired woman shushed. Jumping to the worst case scenario wasn't going to solve anything. "I'm going to find him! Just let me get a flashlight and we'll go looking for him in the truck."

Another loud sniffle was sucked up her nostrils as Delia fumbled with a junk drawer in the kitchen, pawing through it rigidly in search of the desired object. On the side, Emily awaited in an antsy state, staring off then back at Delia hoping she'd hurry up her silly search.

"You know, you should keep your house tidier to be prepared for situations like these," the older woman remarked.

Furrowed eyebrows were shot Emily's way. "Well, I didn't think this would arise," Delia responded curtly. And her mother-in-law's compulsion to criticize wasn't helping nor needed at a time like this. In seconds, Delia eventually explored the drawer all the way to the back, only to further her frustration as her search was obviously fruitless. "Where the heck is it?" she mumbled under her breath, slamming the damn thing shut.

After that, she wandered back into the living room, crouched down, and rummaged through a decorative basket she had sitting by the coffee table. Like a nagging child, Emily followed and stood once more in an impatient state. A very brief moment of silence passed before the wealthy woman decided to speak up.

"Samuel tried to get Gary to talk, but it seems he's not willing to share anything," she abruptly stated.

Delia didn't bother to hold back a snort. "What a surprise."

"Did Ash say anything to the boys?"

"Well if he did, don't you think I would have known and said something by now?"

"So, he's been up to something then," deduced Emily, ignoring her daughter-in-law's snappy comeback. "Hiding something from you."

Already Emily was beginning to insinuate things- playing "detective"...assuming the worst about Delia and Ash's relationship.

Delia had no interest in hearing them, and so, the woman stood up, brushed a strand of hair out of her face and gave her mother-in-law a serious look. "Emily, Ash and I don't hide things from each other."

"Well, he was obviously hiding something from you back at the inn," she retorted, crossing her arms. "Something he's been keeping quiet for quite a while, I presume. Something with Gary. And I doubt this is the first time he's lied to you."

Internally, Delia winced at that.

"Oh please," she outwardly huffed as she went back into the kitchen, "just because your own relationship with your children had to deal with lies doesn't mean Ash and I follow the same pattern."

"I doubt it was a typical passive-aggressive comment by Gary to send him into such an animalistic frenzy!" Emily tried to reason, dismissing Delia's equally as stinging comment. "That boy has been lying to your face about something and now it's all coming out in the wash."

In her tracks, Delia paused. Of course she knew that behavior wasn't typical of Ash. Not her sweet pumpkin... No, there was something wrong. In Delia's eyes, however, it wasn't any of Emily's concern. And she didn't need her butting in with her uncalled for comments and presumptions.

Once halfway composing herself, Delia spun around, keeping her tone in check as best she could. "When I find him, Ash and_ I_ will talk about it. As of right now, I just want to find the damn flashlight!"

That outburst alone should have been a clear indicator to Emily that Delia was in no mood to tolerate any of her nitpicking or unwanted perceptions. Yet, Emily managed to keep up her tirade, all fired up from Ash's unfortunate course of behavior- reminding her of what could come of it.

"You know he's doing the same things Jayce did."

Another ending of footsteps happened. Delia swiveled on her feet and gave the older woman a hardened glower. "_Emily_," she started very sharply at the mere mention of _his_ name, "_don't_-"

"This is just the start of the rebellious stage," she persisted anyway. "Before you know it he'll be sneaking out late at night doing God knows what. Running off without your permission to go to some God forsaken region, disobeying your direct orders despite you _knowing _what's best for him-"

"No he won't, no he won't, _NO HE WON'T_!" Delia cried out rather fervently, throwing her hands up in the air. "Ash is a good kid; he wouldn't go behind my back!" The intensity of her voice appeared to surprise Emily for a moment, beginning to truly see the hysteria now pouring both from Delia's eyes and voice.

But Emily just snorted. "Oh, and I suppose the altercation of broken china and bloody noses with Gary was just a delusion?"

"My relationship with Ash is _completely_ different from yours and Jay," Delia argued passionately. "You _suffocated_ him. You wouldn't let Jay breath! _I_ don't suffocate Ash!"

Her emphasizing the difference between them was clear without her needing to point so adamantly towards her chest. As was Delia's bold accusation to her mother-in-law.

Emily scoffed at her. "Well, aren't you just mother of the year?" she grumbled.

"Don't give me that-!"

"And don't you tell _me_ what happened between my son and me!" Emily challenged, wagging a finger. Hunched shoulders raised as Delia backed up, now equally matched with a just-as-peeved Emily.

"You didn't live with us, Delia," she reminded. "All you can go off of are the outrageously exaggerated images Jayce put in your head."

"I saw them firsthand on many occasions, Emily. They _weren't_ exaggerated."

"So you're going to take the word of an overly emotionally teenager?"

The intensity of the argument took over the women's attention so much that neither had heard the front door quietly creak open and shut. They also didn't hear the soft footsteps that followed and wandered partially up the staircase. But the intruding presence stopped and could overhear everything.

"I saw a good portion of it unfold!" Delia's muffled voice carried on as the presence lingered by the stairwell. "Let's talk about Drake for example. Did you think Jay would take Richard's affair easily? That he'd just brush off having a half-brother as nothing?! That he could simply accept your refusal to leave him?"

It was then Ash froze and hitched a gasp in the back of his throat.

_That picture... H-how?... _

But still, no one heard his shrill raspy breath of shock. The women were at each other's throats, calling the other one out as the escalation of the squabbling continued. The mere topic of Richard's affair had not lowered Delia's voice but softened her eyes just enough to experience the pity and sympathy she had once felt for Jay.

"It hurt him!" she exclaimed with tightened fists. "It hurt him _so bad _and you didn't even have the decency to-"

"It was none of his concern," Emily cut her short.

When Emily glanced to the side in hidden shame, Delia's chestnut eyes unexpectedly intensified madly. Soon, her mouth opened, finding it impossible to form words as she looked to the older woman, utterly flabbergasted.

"_None of his concern_? Wh-what?! It destroyed your marriage! It destroyed _your children's_ image of the father they thought they knew, and they didn't deserve that! And you didn't do anything by protecting them from it! Instead, you_ stayed_ with Richard. And I know, it isn't any of my business, but what's still so appalling is that you couldn't set aside your stupid pride and image for your own children's welfare! That's only _one_ of the many reasons why you and Jay failed to have a real relationship!"

A crinkled nose was all that was given in return. There was a quick moment of silence, until Emily scrounged up the nerve to speak.

"Is that _really_ what you think?" she started in a harsh yet halfway disbelieving tone. "That I was so selfish I put my own needs before my children's? That I forced them into accepting what had been decided?"

Delia leaned in with narrowed eyes. "It's what I _know_."

Finally, a huff escaped Emily's lips. She appeared to be waiting to see if her daughter-in-law would take back her words, but seeing Delia so stiff and certain on the matter left Emily boiling with an indescribable fury. It was a rapid change in her anger, festering into something ugly and resentful as her voice boomed and eyebrows narrowed.

"Well, if I couldn't control and make Jayce happy that he chose to elope and throw everything away with his barefoot and pregnant girlfriend, how come he ran away from _you_ and your picture-perfect life?!"

No instance, no words had ever fueled Delia with so much aggression until that very instant. Inside, she was consumed wildly with animosity, like a fire waiting to be unleashed and obliterate everything around it. Those words were like a knife being stabbed right into Delia's just-barely mending heart, and Emily knew damn well that they held a powerful effect on the insecure woman. Acknowledging the agony and dismay Delia had endured with Jay's abrupt and never-explained abandonment.

Chestnut eyes swelled with plump tears as Delia growled. "_Get out_."

"You couldn't make Jayce happy!" Emily berated, unmoved by her threatening tone. "You couldn't contain him from those silly aspirations of his! You thought he wanted you, that he _chose_ _you _over training. Well, I'm sorry to tell you this, Delia, but all you were to Jayce was an escape route to get away from Richard and me! You were an easy way out of the life we had planned for him! It was only a matter of time before your relationship fell apart-"

"_SHUT UP_!"

Her hostile outburst both amazed Emily and the petrified and quietly eavesdropping Ash. He couldn't ever remember a time he had heard his mother this angry, let alone utter _the_ _two words _she constantly hounded him for muttering. Especially saying it to the likes of _Emily_. That in of itself solidified Delia had been pushed to the edge of her tolerance. Ash couldn't even begin to imagine what was going to come out of his mom's mouth next.

"You do not have the right to _barge_ into my house, _insult _me, and practically _tell _me I was nothing but a convenient out for your son just because you were an overbearing, manipulative, and controlling mother!" Delia defensively shouted, her voice becoming hoarse. "Jayce loved me! He didn't use me!-"

"Hence:_ loved you_."

"He _still _loves me!" she insisted dramatically.

"Does he?" Emily posed harshly. "Then why hasn't he come back? Why has he failed to make any sort of contact with you after _ten years_? How do you know he's not off with another woman right now?-"

"Because I know him!"

"You thought you did!" Emily hollered back, matching Delia's extreme level of volume. "_We all_ thought we did. He's gone, Delia and he's _not_ coming back. _Ever_. Accept the gravity of the situation! And from one mother to another, I'd crack down a little harder on your own son because from what I can tell, you're losing him, too!"

"Don't you tell me how to raise my kid! And don't you _dare_ tell me that I'm losing him!" Delia asserted with another breath of passion.

The tears were starting to fall.

"You can go ahead and think whatever the hell you want about my relationship with Jay! I don't care! But don't you say a _word _about _my _son. I _know_ Ash. He wouldn't do anything like that to hurt me or ruin himself. We _trust_ each other and I don't push Ash away even when his actions cause me some discomfort. And if you can't accept or respect that and have enough decency to show a _little_ compassion for me and what I've had to cope with for the last ten damn years, then I DON'T WANT YOU IN THIS HOUSE!"

That was the loudest, most deafening holler Ash had ever heard from his mother. She yelled at the top of her lungs just to make her point clear to Emily, which in turn, seemed to work to Delia's advantage. At first, Emily gave her nothing but a cold stare like the dead of winter before twirling on her heels and marching out of the room. In return, Delia huffed noticeably at her mother-in-law's rushed leaving as she at last stormed out of the house, the door closing with a thunderous slam.

Then, the house officially fell silent.

At the top of the stairs, Ash remained still, shaken by his mother's escalated screams and his grandmother's over-the-top exit. He could hardly get his knees to rise and legs to move without feeling wobbly, the impending dread of confronting his riled mother magnifying his raging migraine and stomachache. After all that had transpired between Delia and Emily, Ash couldn't see how he could simply escape out the bedroom window and leave to find his father without at least _apologizing_ to Delia.

Down in the kitchen, Delia's loud sniffles indicated she was still crying, or at least trying to pull herself together. Her breathing had slowed down a bit with a few blubbers in between. Once he mustered the courage to precede, Ash tip-toed down the stairs with Pikachu, and like a ghost, entered the living room. As he crept around the corner of the entryway into the kitchen, he faced the back of his mom and watched her hands rise and wipe away strands of tears. He was beyond sympathetic for Delia and both thunderstruck and repulsed by his grandmother's bold accusations.

Though such feelings were not translated upon his face. His expression only held anticipation in clearing the air, and the overall fear of confronting what would probably be a hideous altercation. Gradually, Ash came forward out of the dark entryway and into the kitchen, his voice barely above of a whisper to indicate his presence.

"Mom, I'm sorry-"

"What were you thinking?" Delia whipped around in a flash, her bloodshot eyes and furrowed brows meeting the shaky ones of her son's. She didn't even have a reaction of surprise that her son was safe and sound. She was far too angered by Emily to even physically indicate her internal relief and thankfulness. "Getting into a fight with Gary and then just taking off in the middle of the night?!" she belted in a lecturing tone. "Have you lost your mind? You had me worried sick!"

"I'm sorry!-"

"No, Ash," Delia swiftly interrupted. "Sorry doesn't cut it this time! You destroyed the inn! You _ruined_ the party in your great-grandmother's honor-!"

"I didn't want it to turn out that way, Mom!" he tried to defend. "I swear to God, I didn't want to ruin everything you guys did!-"

"You embarrassed not only me, but your grandparents. Michelle, your aunt, Dani- Everything we've work for!-"

"Okay, I get it," Ash hollered, sick of the painful reminders. He knew she had been hit unbearably by his grandma's ruthless beliefs, but he wasn't her personal punching bag. "I'm a terrible person! The black-sheep in the family. Put the dunce cap on me already!"

"Oh, don't be a smart-aleck!" his mother scoffed. "You know that's not what I said or meant!"

"Well, it sure feels like that!" the teenager snorted, he too amplified by the attack and his own internal thoughts. "All you care about is that stupid party and the town's image of the inn! Never mind Dad's been missing," he dared to mumble off to the side. "Like you could give a friggin' care-"

"Don't you tell me what I do and don't care about!" his mother curtly countered back. Ash's face slightly reddened, realizing she had picked up on what he said.

"I've done _nothing _but support this family on my own for the last ten years! And don't you think that a day goes by without me_ thinking_ about your father! You have no clue how hard I fought to get him to stay! _No clue_. I care for him as much as I do you!"

A loud huff flew from Ash's nostrils at this. Delia bit back her tongue to ignore her son's childish refusal to believe. So, fine. She was furious with him; fed up with the accusations being thrown at her about Jay and everything and anything involving him. But Ash declined to accept all this anger being tossed his way. Especially when more crucial matters needed his attention.

"You're just mad because I screwed everything up and that Grandma gave you hell about you and Dad!" he so boldly threw back.

Immediately, Delia's mouth opened though the words were hard for her to form initially. "You- You shouldn't have heard _any_ of that!-"

"Well, I heard plenty! Including Grandpa having an affair?! What the hell, Mom?!-"

"Again, you shouldn't have heard any of that!" the mother repeated, now her skin flushing. "What matters is why you went ballistic at the inn and just had to let whatever issues you had with Gary get in the way of your judgement!-"

"No, it doesn't! None of that matters anymore!" Ash disagreed. _Like you'd believe anything I'd say anyway_, he thought with a bitter twinge.

At this point, any family member in his eyes was blatantly undeserving of the truth of his actions or the news he received. Especially when some had managed to lie to him on multiple occasions. And for what? To protect him or to keep him away from what dark secrets really lied underneath every smile and family get-together?

"Everything about this family is a friggin' lie! Everyone_ in_ this family lies!" Ash made sure to stress. "Gary lied, Grandpa lied, _Dad_ lies plenty, and you- even you lie!" he exclaimed with a bit of surprise. "And _I am_ truly sorry for what I did to the inn, Mom! I'm sorry you got yelled at by Grandma and blamed for Dad's leaving. She was in the wrong. But at least I give a damn about Dad to figure out where the hell he is!"

There, it slipped. He hadn't meant to let that one out. The festering resentment and rage inside the teenager had gotten the best of him. And it was about to for Delia, as well.

A noticeably deep breath was sucked in through the woman's nose. Her voice started firm but soft and then exploded as she carried on. "I don't want to hear another word about your father or his reasons for leaving this evening or in the next lifetime, do you hear me?! Because I am about to have a serious mental breakdown if I don't get a little peace!-"

"So it's all about you?" Again, the words just poured. No thought put into them. Just piqued with fury as he allowed himself to fully lose control and spiral downward, forgetting all self-restraint and prior ambition to keep Delia in the dark.

"You won't even let me explain what happened! All you're doing is accusing me-!"

"Frankly at this point, I don't think I can handle knowing why you had to _hit_ Gary, why you had to fight with Gary in your _grandmother's_ inn, in _her_ dining room in front of the _entire_ town!-"

"Because of Dad!"

"Oh Ash, not everything is about your damn father!" Delia screeched.

"You wouldn't be saying that if you knew the truth about him!" Ash hollered back.

"You don't know the truth!"

"YES I DO!"

Her son's deafening scream left Delia frozen, giving Ash enough time to glare at her before rushing up the stairs with a half startled Pikachu lagging behind. Once the woman was able to snap back into focus, she collected her alarmed self and hurried towards the end of the staircase.

"Ash, come back down here!" she hollered from below as he went up the last step. "Ash! ASHTON!"

_SLAM!_

With her throat hurting and her nerves fried, Delia ceased the battle for the evening and retreated back into the living room. From there, she grabbed the handset and punched in her father's cellphone number, informing him Ash was home.

The phone only rang once before the woman heard Ernest's voice over the device. "Dad, it's me," she started weakly, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "Ash is here. Yeah, yeah. He's at the house. He's safe. I'm going to deal with him in the morning. Tell Mom for me. And- tell her that'll I'll be in tomorrow at the inn after I, um, speak with Annie and Chad about the damages. Okay. Okay. Thank you. Thank you for everything, Dad. 'Night."

When Delia hung up the phone, her body relaxed into the back of the sofa and her head drooped. The tears began to commence once again, struggling to take hold and break free from this ongoing hysteria. This had to be one of the worst nights of her life. A night that should have been filled with joy was replaced by the reminders of sadness and drama. To give herself some kind of relief, Delia tried not to dwell on it for too long, though it was easier said than done as she occasionally stared back up at the top of the staircase.

_Ash… Oh, Ash!… What is going on with you?_

Her exhausted eyes eventually tore away from the staircase and back down, now staring at the phone nestled her grasp. She had just noticed the reminder on the phone that a message had been left. Initially, Delia assumed it was from her father a little while ago, informing her he and his handworkers hadn't found Ash yet or perhaps was calling the house to see if Ash would answer. Either way, she went to the main set in the living room and allowed it to play as she walked into the kitchen for a desperately needed glass of water.

Standing over the sink with a fresh glass from the cupboard, Delia turned on the water, giving it a few seconds to cool before she started to fill her glass. At first, the woman didn't hear anything over the message until what sounded like shallow breathing. Breathing fading in and out and then- a voice. The voice, the words coming from the machine left her paralyzed, wide-eyed, breathless, and speechless. She didn't even pull away her sopping hand as the water overflowed from her glass and onto her skin.

_Jayce. Without question. Pallet. Immediately. Take Ash. Police Station. Call Sam. The letter. Begging. Not Safe. They're coming-_

His voice.

A beep and crash happened simultaneously. Broken shards of glass dispersed into the sink, the machine in the background humming with a low continual sound, indicating that the message had ended. A delicate pair of chestnut eyes and a mouth quivered as limbs remained still, almost lifeless. There wasn't even a proper moment for Delia to process that message or run to the phone and call back the man she hadn't heard from in ten years until now-

No. As an already stunned Delia stared up into the kitchen window she caught the reflection of an unfamiliar shadow lurking right behind.

They had already come.

As fast as she twirled, Delia met the eyes of a complete stranger. A man dressed in black from head to toe with a red R right on the middle of his chest. Instantly, she realized it was Team Rocket, but was far too petrified and bombarded to make any sort of connection between them and her husband. The criminal had what looked like a needle of some sort in his hand, an injection…and there was a gun on his belt. And he stood there. Watching her. Waiting to do any unspeakable action she could fathom from watching those late-night crime shows.

Reacting in a fight or flight mode, Delia hastily snatched up the closest thing of a weapon in her proximity. She grabbed a green family heirloom vase by the kitchen sink, and soon, water and flowers spewed onto the floor as she clutched the vase and raised it past her shoulder.

_I'm sorry Aunt Mable! _she silently apologized to the deceased relative.

With a mighty thrust, the woman swung it forward and managed to hit the intruder right in the shoulder. She had unfortunately missed his head, but it was enough time to give her a chance to run for the phone to dial 911. Delia didn't want to scream for Ash; she didn't want them anywhere near her baby or know he was in the house- not if she could protect him.

Scrambled feet about reached the phone until another man out of nowhere took hold of her wrists and flung her downward. From there, the two collided onto the coffee table in the living room, a couple legs of furniture breaking as they tumbled down. The impact caused a sharp pain to glide up her back, but she didn't wince and moan over it, as Delia awkwardly tried to get up and escape. Unfortunately, her moment of freedom ended just as rapidly, slamming back down on the broken wooden surface as the grunt loomed over her and clenched his hands around her neck.

Delia tried to gasp. She couldn't breathe! If she couldn't get out of his hold one way or another, she felt as if she would suffer some sort of panic attack. Or pass out, or worse-

Desperate hands worked to pry the man's fingers away, but he was far too strong. Continually, Delia kept gasping for air, everything becoming a blur; even her hearing seemed to fade as she became distressed. As her dilated, bulging eyes dashed to the side, she saw a small lamp had fallen. If her fingers could extend just enough, Delia hoped she could use it to smash it right over the man's head.

Her arm ached with pain as her fingers wiggled to take hold of the desired object, her muscles pushing and stretching all the more as she saw the first intruder from earlier get up and come forward with the injection.

Her heart rate was at an uncontrollable speed, the fastest it had ever been. She pushed harder, fingers just barely scraping the surface of the base of the lamp until-

A flash of a powerful electrical current shot out all the lights.

* * *

They had walked towards the lab entrance feeling bushed and out of sorts.

A good night's rest was all Sam and Michael could do to prepare for the tumultuous day ahead. With Tracey at the Parker's residence, the men took advantage of having a short private chat, finally deciding once and for all on how to go about telling Delia the truth.

On the way home, they had loosely rehearsed the session to come. Bouncing off ideas and finding the appropriate words for the occasion. Rehearsing such seemed silly at first, until Sam's conscience reminded him why this situation needed such a gentle and dire discussion. After tonight's latest escapade of Ash and Gary's unforeseen tussle, the professor could hardly imagine how Delia was going to react towards his confession.

And Sam still wanted to know what had transpired between the two... That he would have to deal with Annie and Chad later. Perhaps they'd be the ones to get Gary to come around.

Upon opening the door to the lab, Sam reached for the light switch inside. However, when he flicked the switch upward no bright lights flashed on. In the bleak darkness, he looked Michael oddly and then fumbled his way in, blindly attempting to find a nearby lamp. Once nearly running into Sam, it was Michael who found a tall lamp by the sofa. But when he too tried to turn the device on, there was no light.

It was when they were about to develop their own explanation, did an unknown and foreboding voice from Sam's personal recliner suddenly speak.

"Hello, Professor. Surprised?"

* * *

The first thing Jay did when he and the others reached Kelly's house was grab his duffle bag.

As speedily as he entered, his fingers unzipped the bag and began to rummage through the contents. Several times he blundered in his search, eventually snatching the gauze, some ointment, and bandages he needed to temporarily mend Drake's wound. With Misty's aid, the two managed to wrap Drake's injury securely for the time being.

The closest Jay had ever been shot was being nicked in the leg, and he had no choice but to hobble to the nearest Pokémon Center for treatment. There, a Nurse Joy fixed him up, demanding to know what had happened but Jay refused to speak. By the time she was about to report to the authorities he had already left, leaving her with no name, address, nothing. He did however pay very careful attention to how she treated his injury. He knew it would pay off in the long run.

Blue eyes peeped out the window, keeping watch as little fingers ever so cautiously pulled back the curtains. Molly's heart rate instantly rose as the distant sound of voices aroused the night air.

"I think they're coming," the young trainer whimpered anxiously, drawing back in fright. "What are we going to do?!"

Nearly as nervously, Jay glanced over his shoulder and listened. The voices were growing louder. Jay had only a few bullets left between the guns he had after wasting some earlier just to keep the agents chasing them at bay. His jumbled mind did its best to work quickly, but was abruptly interrupted by Kelly's answer and swift motion.

"Hide," the old man said.

Jay made a face. "What?"

He leaped to his feet and halted the researcher before he could go forward. In return, Kelly sighed at the master's stubbornness and explained. "We won't have enough time to run. At this rate, they'll be chasing us all night. And I have just the place to keep you all safe."

After delivering his explanation, he finally walked passed Jay. However, he refused to glance away from Kelly as he gave a hard stare to the back of his head.

"And what about you?" he asked sharply with a hint of worry.

As expected to a certain degree, Kelly ignored this and proceeded down the hall. Jay went after him speedily and was baffled at how short their journey was and where Kelly was insisting for them to hide.

Once Kelly removed the painting Jay had paused to glimpse at days ago, he was surprised and intrigued to see behind that picture was an actual closet. However, Jay didn't find it much of a sufficient place to hide from Team Rocket.

"The closet?" Jay said with a look.

"Here," Kelly motioned, opening the door and pointing upward. "Above this shelf is a hidden door to the attic. The door seals so well into the ceiling you hardly see a gap between the two. There's no way Team Rocket will find you."

That was all well and dandy, but there was still a part Jay couldn't comprehend.

"But why won't you hide with us?" he asked rather impatiently.

Anxiously, he was waiting for answer, but a shrill voice of panic arose for them to do _something_. Fast.

"I think they're almost here!" Molly yelped, drawing fearful eyes to a weakened Drake and Misty. She could see lights shining towards the house and the words pouring from the criminal's mouth were becoming easier to understand.

"Then we don't have much time," Kelly announced forlornly.

Not long after, hurried steps were able to scurry towards the secret door to the attic. Though he had a serious injury, Drake insisted for the girls to go up before him and Jay. Molly was the first to climb up the ladder Kelly brought down, followed by Misty, and then Drake. Jay watched him from behind as his brother travelled up. The current treatment he received was enough for him to manage, despite only having one good arm to work with. Then, with encouraging words from above for him to come up, Jay was left.

As urgent as he knew it was for him to move, he still couldn't depart from Kelly just yet.

"Why won't you come with us?"

"Someone has to keep them distracted," he reasoned.

Jay frowned and lowered his eyebrows. "They'll _kill _you. I can't just stand here and let you be a target-"

"All you need to worry about is your friends- and getting home to your family."

His family. The mention of them made Jay wonder if they were all right. If Delia got the message, if Sam told her anything-

The warm smile and hand on the shoulder from Kelly almost brought a moment of comfort to Jay, and yet, he still felt a pang of foreboding turmoil between the encroaching grunts and his family's fate. Thinking back on what could happen. What Suicune showed him and the options Kelly explained.

Jay's mouth opened. "I-"

"Jayce," Kelly cut in, now placing both hands on the master's shoulders, "I just have...one last thing to say to you." Swallowing, Jay carefully nodded and listened. "I can see that you allow fear to control you. Fear drives you into doing the things you do. Giovanni is not your worst enemy, Jayce...it's you. Remember, you're much stronger than you think. And this is outside any Pokémon battle. This is about you as a person."

Jay sunk in exactly what Kelly said, fighting with what he meant and then seeing how what he claimed made sense-

Jay could hear the shouts becoming louder. Closer.

His icy eyes shook. "I don't believe I'm strong enough for this-"

"You've come too far to doubt yourself," Kelly reminded firmly. "Remember, the power is within. As long as you don't let yourself stand in the way. And take this," he promptly handed over. "If that book stays down here, it will be in far worse hands than yours."

Fingers gently caressed the worn leather of the book- the very book that told everything to come and the result if Jay did allow himself to stand in the way.

_BANG, BANG! _

The agents were already at the door, attempting to break down the thick barrier. Jay and Kelly both gazed back at each other. Jay somewhat frightened while Kelly seemed oddly calm. No time was given for Jay to even respond, as Kelly nudged him to make haste and hide while he still had the opportunity.

"Now go," he commanded, motioning him towards the ladder. "I know you'll make the right decision."

_BANG! BANG! BANG!_

The siding of the door was loosening, the hinges unhinging.

A faint lipping of a thank you fell from Jay's mouth before proceeding on up. As he peered over his shoulder he met Kelly's clouded blue eyes for one last time, then, once up the ladder, he pulled it up into the attic and scooted backward with it. Then, as planned, Kelly speedily put the secret doorway back into place, closed the closet, and put the painting right back in its special spot.

It was when Kelly ever so quietly walked back into the main part of the house did the front door at last fly open. The thick cut of wood collided with the floor in a great thud, a whole herd of armed grunts racing in and scouring the place. Kelly stood back with a pounding chest, trying to stay calm even as he watched them deliberately move and knock things over.

"Search the house," the head agent next to Cassidy and Butch commanded. Almost immediately, he flashed his dark eyes to Kelly. "Where are they?" he growled, coming towards the researcher.

Kelly squinted. "They?"

"Don't play coy with me! WHERE ARE THEY?!"

His yelling and lack of personal space didn't appear to scare Kelly any, but it did enough damage for an antsy Butch and Cassidy. And she was the one to speak up about it.

"Easy, easy!" the female agent demanded, placing herself between the old man and her fellow grunt.

But after she and Butch's latest strange behavior, the agent wasn't about to let either of them have a say in anything. Not when they hardly did a thing to fight back after those grunts were murdered.

"Let me handle this!" he roared, forcefully pushing her away. "Since you two seem incapable of performing any part of your job!"

Cassidy sneered at this and was ready to fire back with her own rebuttal, but Butch held tightly onto her arm, unable to do anything but watch from the sidelines.

Very subtly, Kelly's eyes danced about as he saw a little group of agents go up the stairs and then head past the closest. He inhaled a faint breath of relief every time they walked on by without giving it a second thought. To them, it was only a wall.

In no time at all, another grunt approached the head one, coming forward with a look of a disappointment. "We searched the entire house. They're not here."

For a moment, the head agent paused. Both Kelly and the other grunts watched him intensively as he pursed his lips and walked about, before turning back at the researcher and giving a nasty glare.

"I'm going to give you one last chance, old man," he muttered sternly with a show of teeth. "Where did Ketchum and the others go?"

"They left," Kelly said flatly. "They're not here."

"_Where _are they then?"

"I cannot say."

A huff followed at this avoidant response. Pulling from the head grunt's lips was a smirk and what came from his belt was a gun. "Look," he started darkly, "I don't know how I can make this any more clear. Ketchum's friends are dead whether we find them now or not. And Ketchum himself will be used for our purposes _much_ sooner than later.

"Unfortunately for you," he breathed with a mocking sigh, "you will die if you don't tell us where he is _now_. I'm sure after all these years, Giovanni would be happy to see you finished off. And I'm sure he'd like that manuscript, too. Isn't that right, Dr. Donald Kelly?"

If there was anyone who could put on a better poker face than Jay, it was Kelly right then and there. His body was as stiff as a board as his aging eyes had no fear in challenging the much stronger and loaded agent. But he took no gallant action of physical assault for the greater good.

Instead, all he did was speaking.

"If you do kill me, I have no doubt Giovanni will have the satisfaction of it. However, even though I might die, my death or anyone's to come won't propel your boss any closer to his goal."

"Why's that?" he snorted, halfway intrigued to hear the old coot's reasoning.

Now it was Kelly's turn to faintly smirk, to show his upper hand in the most simplest of terms. "Because there's one thing Giovanni has chosen to turn a cheek to: love. Life without love is- nothing."

_BAM! _

Silence.

* * *

Up in the attic, the four trainers were huddled together among all the dust and darkness.

Molly held tightly onto Drake's good arm while Misty clutched Jay's. Both men stayed alert as pricked ears listened carefully for any more strange noises. Or thundering obvious bangs.

What minimal time the trainers had to allow their heart rates to go back to a steady pace was cut short by that firing of a gun. Misty herself could feel tears swell as she bit down on her lip, her head titling downward as she tried to muffle any sobs. Jay gently pulled her in for a side-hug out of comfort, he himself finding his eyes becoming watery, as well.

When footsteps had stopped stomping upon the wooden floor of the house, Drake looked to his brother in the darkness and spoke barely above a whisper.

"Do you hear anything?"

Jay paused and listened. "No... Except..."

There was a scent. Something familiar yet faint. Something he had smelled plenty of times before, and then, there was a distinctively unpleasant odor to it. Soon, Jay heard a few distinctive crackles, popping and multiplying at a fast rate. Then, the smell became more obvious to his senses.

Wood was burning.

Rising to his feet at an extreme speed, Jay stood up and advised them to come along. "We have to go!" he exclaimed, almost panicked. "Team Rocket's set the house on fire."

There was no further conversation needed as the four scrambled to escape their newly found trap. They bumped into one another as expected. Nearly tripping over each other in the process as they struggled to find the hidden door. When Jay sensed the slight different of elevation in the doorway and the actual attic floor, he forcefully with all his strength slammed the door open using his foot and tossed the ladder down. The tips of it just barely laid at the opening of the door, slanted at an angle but no one fussed about it. Instead, Jay picked up Molly by the arms and guided her her down followed by the same order as before.

To speed things along, Misty didn't even bother climbing all the steps, but jumped down half way through and landed right next to Molly. Then, both girls stood in complete horror as they saw the bright, large flames engulf everything around them.

Pieces of wood and now scorched items began to fall from above and the sides, shards tumbling and spreading about a greater fire. Then, shrieks soon followed. Once hearing their screams, both Drake and Jay hurried down, their feet almost stumbling as they too saw the wild red chaos consuming the house.

With a slightly delayed reaction due to shock, Misty eventually reached for her pokebelt and called out two of her trusty water Pokémon. With Corsola and Staryu, they began to drench the perimeter enough for the trainers to squeeze by. Little by little, they inched closer to the door, having to step back and put out a surge of more powerful flames before reaching their ultimate destination.

There was one though lagging behind each time. He wasn't even in the right mind frame to call out his own Samurott and lend a hand. No, Jay was preoccupied. Dilated eyes darting everywhere to find him. Whether he was alive or dead.

Thanks to a combined water gun attack, Corsola and Staryu managed to clear a wide enough pathway for the trainers to escape, the girls heading out first with the Pokémon in tow. Drake was soon to follow, but froze as he saw his brother remain entangled in the flames.

"What are you doing?! Jay! Jay, let's go!" the islander commanded frantically, pulling on his brother's arm. "The pathway will only stay clear for so long!"

"I have to find Kelly!" Jay shouted back.

His brother responded with a bewildered look. "Jay, no, the flames-!" Another surge of heat came near their feet, the men jumping back. Panting heavily, Drake gazed back at his brother through the smoke. "I'm not gonna stand here and argue with you in a burning building! Now c'mon!"

But his insistence did no good. Rolling up his sleeves due to the heat, Jay handed the book and his bag over to a not-so-willing Drake and hurried off. "Take the book and go!"

Drake's jaw dropped. "Jay, stop! You'll kill yourself! JAY!"

Screaming at the top of his lungs led to further coughing, his lungs unable to handle any more smoke. Despite a lack of proper air, the islander was about to follow his brother until a massive piece from the ceiling fell right before him and blocked his path. Mingling with the continual cracks of the fire, he could hear the girls outside yelling for the men to come out. And so, without much choice, Drake ran outside and took charge in putting out the flames.

The islander could only pray his brother would come out alive.

Back inside, Jay was still calling for Kelly, finding him nowhere…at least, anywhere he could walk. He couldn't even find the possibility of his body, seeming as if Kelly just- vanished. Still, out of desperation and guilt, Jay continued to cry out for the man. But nothing. There was no response, no sign. He loathed the idea of leaving him to be burnt alive in his own home, yet what choice did Jay have? With a heavy heart, streaming tears and cursing wildly to himself, Jay found the smoke too thick, the heat unbearable, and the flames too dangerously close for him to stay any longer.

He at last called out for his Samurott to help him flee the ruined house. The trainer and his Pokémon both suffered minor burns and trails of ashes as they rushed out. Samurott had just enough water storage to put out a great deal of flames, and with the force of its attack, knocked down the weak integrity of the living room wall.

As fast as that water hit and exploded the wall did Jay and his water Pokémon emerge. From there, he didn't even take time to collect his breath as he aided Misty in putting out the flames. She now had all her water Pokémon out, and it was Gyarados who finished the job in just a couple of spews. Even though her Pokémon were lacking hydration, they performed their hardest to extinguish the danger before them.

It was only when all streaks of red and orange dissipated and black remained, did everyone fall quiet and stare. Staring at the burnt remains of the once gloriously built house. And remembering the man who dwelled in it.

The black ashes blended ever so hauntingly with the dead of night. There wasn't a dry eye from anyone. Even the Pokémon sensed the foreboding times ahead. Team Rocket had done their worst. They had not only destroyed a man's home, but his life. They had destroyed parts of a forest there were home to so many creatures. They had placed fear in their targets and had threatened to harm the lives of those unaware to the fatality of it all.

All it took was one exchange between Jay and Drake to fully communicate the destruction that had been done. And what could not be undone. Kelly was gone.

Hope was gone.

* * *

**A/N Count.: **SO MUCH drama to take in from everyone! After all the unfortunate events that have transpired, what are Jay and the others going to do? What options did Kelly exactly leave him with? What about the other legendary beasts? And Prof. Oak and Dr. Strayer? Most importantly, what about Ash, Pikachu, and Delia's fate? And will Emily regret ANYTHING she said? ;p Find out in the next chapter!

And I have to say thank you to my beta reader for leaving such amazing feedback on this chapter. :) You're the best, girl! I was beyond happy to hear how much you've enjoyed this story as a whole, but to know how much you loved this chapter alone meant so much to me. Thank you again for all your kind feedback!

Thank you all once more for reading! **RESPECTFUL and POLITE reviews are welcome only!**


	25. The Truth Cannot Bear the Sunlight

**Author's Note:** Hello my readers! It's been a while, hasn't it? This holiday season and among other things, has kept me insanely busy, but I managed to finish this chapter just before New Year's. I didn't want to keep you guys waiting any longer, so with my beta reader's stamp of approval with thorough feedback, I have posted it for you all to enjoy!

I had a decent amount of orders during Christmas, which has kept me very occupied with the shop and my time. I don't tend to advertise a lot of my personal life, but I will say that I've been very emotionally drained from dealing with a lot of personal strain and family issues these last few months. Let's just say it hasn't been easy, and it's taken a real toll. So writing when I have the chance, definitely helps brings some enjoyment back into my life, and I hope you all enjoy reading this new chapter too. And I would also like to thank everyone who has been supportive this year with this story! It means more than I can express to be able to share this with you guys.

Let's hope the new year will bring us all some joy! :) I wish you guys the best, and I hope everyone has an absolutely fun and safe new year!

**DISCLAIMER: **_Pokémon_ belongs to Satoshi Tajiri. My oc's belong to me.

* * *

**Sunlight's Return**

**Chapter 25**

_"The Truth Cannot Bear the Sunlight"_

Something felt cold.

The air was oddly drafty for summer being in season. And there was a metallic smell, too.

Rigidly, sore fingers scraped against the stone ground. A faint moan was produced.

Ash was beginning to stir. Fading in and out of his current reality and the unpredictable happenings of the very night before.

His mind was foggy. His head heavy with aches in between. Eyelids were just in the midst of crinkling, but could not fully open as dark subjective memories flashed in his dreaming state.

In an attempt to sneak out the window, feet stopped short. Ash recalled the motion of turning his head, both he and Pikachu looking immediately to his bedroom door. There was a loud crash downstairs. A very distinct noise. Like glass had shattered and a noticeable tumble followed forthwith.

Then there was a distinct yelp.

It sounded like his mother.

With panic, concern, and outright confusion, Ash hastily made his way to the door and swung it open. However, it was when Pikachu's ears pricked with such precision and he jumped from his master's shoulder with raised hackles, did Ash believe something was far worse than Delia taking a simple fall. He stalked down the hall with caution, Pikachu in the lead as they reached the middle of the steps. The living room was only lit by the lights on in the kitchen, but he could make out the silhouette of his mother, struggling on the floor, gasping for air as a strange manly figure loomed right over her body with vicious hands. Then, another man approached, hands prepping something thin and sharp.

Nothing could prepare Ash for what was to come next.

He didn't need to think. There was no hesitation. Within a flash, the teenager reacted on instinct, his adrenaline pumping as he crept down the staircase, and soon found himself ordering Pikachu to fire off a thunderbolt. The electrical surge caused all the lights to blow out instantly, light bulbs popping and flickering as the whole house was consumed into chaotic black. Only faintly could Ash make anything out. The intruder standing had fallen prey to Pikachu's shocking attack, leaving Ash to viciously grab the man still choking Delia. A tight arm managed to wrap around the strangers neck before he could react, Ash pressing his hold further into the man's airway. They stumbled back a few steps before the attacker spun around and forcefully threw Ash off of him. Nearly being rammed into the fireplace, Ash jumped up with hardly a limp as he charged forward, only to be pushed back again with an agonizing kick to the stomach. No punch Gary threw his way could be compared to immense plain the current blow brought about.

Clenching his stomach, Ash had fallen to his knees and winced loudly in agony. His sight grew fuzzy as dark silhouettes resumed another round of battle. He could hear his mother wince and fight back as she tried to stand up with Pikachu soon coming to the rescue. The horrific crash of something immediately hitting a wall alerted Ash his mouse had been either hit or pushed to the side. And so, a deep primitive desire to protect his furry companion prompted Ash to bottle his current uncomfortable state and bolt back into action. He was about ready to take a vicious swing at the assailant, when he felt something sharp and startling plunge into the side of his neck. Instantly, dreary eyes locked with that of an unknown pair. The eyes were intense and frightening. Ash gasped a little, petrified to be met with such a menacing stare.

In mere seconds, he felt numb and immobilized. Helpless.

Whatever he could make out began to fade into nothing, as did the crying of Pikachu and yelps of Delia.

Then, he collapsed.

And now, he was beginning to awaken. Unsure how long he had been out or where he was currently located. His eyelids began to flutter. And the pains of the aftermath persisted. Eyes barely open, Ash could feel how incredibly cold his cheek was. With a disoriented shake of his head, he attempted to arch his neck and back. Sharp, indescribable pains intensified as his body rose, hands plastered on what appeared to be cement. His whole body was unsteady and sore, and he could smell the remnants of dried caked blood upon his nose and mouth.

His surroundings were unfamiliar. For a moment, he wondered where Pikachu was, and soon realized the inevitable if Team Rocket was indeed behind this, as Brock had warned hours before. Ash cursed inwardly at this, until his focus was stolen. The first thing he caught sight of was a silhouette of thick, dark lines until his vision became clear. Bars. Then, he turned to the side. Panic intensified in his chocolate eyes as they gazed at his motionless mother. Stretching his arm as far as he could, Ash pushed his limb through the bars, feeling the metal rub comfortably against him as fingers flailed out. He leaned in closer to successfully take hold of his mom's shoulder, forcefully shaking her awake.

"M-mom, Mom- Mom, wake up! Please! Please, Mom! Please, be okay!" he begged desperately.

A few seconds had passed, but eventually, Ash saw Delia's eyelids crack open, causing him to breathe a sigh of relief. Her response was similar as his initial one to waking up; hazy, discombobulated, and achy as she struggled to rise up on her elbows and look to him. As she moved, Ash took notice of the hideous bruising around her neck, cringe worthy for him to think the torture she endured, and how he didn't intervene in time.

All it took was casting her eyes upon the vivid bruises, blood, and disheveled clothing on her son for the woman's chestnut eyes to dilate.

Some of those marks weren't caused by Gary.

"Ash- Ash..."

"Mom, it's me! I'm here!"

Despite being weak, Delia found enough strength to crawl up on her hands and hurry towards her son. Between the bars that separated them, Delia's hands reached out, her arms sticking less than halfway through as the opening was small. In return, Ash scooted closer and Delia's tremulous hands stroked her son's cheeks.

"Oh, Ash!" she cooed with an unsteady voice. "Your face- honey, are you okay?"

"I'm fine," he answered swallowing, slightly winded. "A-are you all right?"

"Y-yes..." She obviously had not and could not see the physical damage that had been done to her. But all Delia cared about was the assurance that her son was still in one piece. And...that she _did_ see him again- even after their horrific fight.

Out of nowhere, the woman's eyes filled with plump tears. "I'm so sorry I yelled, Ash. I lost my temper. I didn't mean to say- And then those men- I was so scared!" she declared, caressing his blood-ridden cheek again. "Ash, I was _so_ worried I was going to lose you! I couldn't protect you-"

"It's okay, Mom," the teenager eased, placing his hand over hers. "It's okay... I'm here, it's okay..."

Delia nodded in return at his assuring words, but found everything all too unbearable and broke down. The sniffing began to commence and somehow, morphed into a furious moan. "I didn't get home in time- Damnit! I didn't get home to hear it..."

_Hear it? _With a wrinkling of his forehead, Ash was lost. "Mom? Mom, what are you talking about?"

Swallowing, she was about to muster the strength to tell him of the explanation for their attack, until the pair heard a sudden groan emerged behind Delia. Gazing past Delia's personal cell, the mother and son witnessed Sam beginning to stir with very slow yet jolted movements.

"Prof. Oak!"

On her knees, Delia crawled over to the other side of her cage and grappled the bars. "Sam? Samuel, are you all right?!" she cried. Her initial reaction was pure shock at the professor's abrupt appearance, but was soon reminded very quickly of the mention of Sam's name in her husband's message.

Sam had a hand in this...and in doing so, he was prey, too.

"Uggh..." A moan eventually slipped between the professor's cracked lips. Much slower than Ash or Delia awakening, Sam's bones creaked and shook as he tried to rise to his palms. "Wh-what happened?" he soon groaned, a hand pressed to his pounding head.

Ash, however, took no sympathies in seeing his mentor in discomfort. "I think you know the answer," he instead shot coldly.

This remark pricked both Delia and Sam's attention simultaneously. It was the old man, though, who reacted first. His aging eyes widened in surprise by the sound of their voices, and then seeing their disheveled presences before him left the professor twice as flabbergasted.

"A-ash, Delia!"

The surprise in his voice was beyond evident, but wasn't analyzed by either the mother or son as they caught sight of another presence starting to stir behind Sam. In his own cell, Michael was also beginning to awaken, causing Delia to call out to him.

"Dr. Strayer! Michael, can you hear me?" she said, clenching the bars.

Her cries appeared to stir the psychologist awake, rising with a very shaky hand gracing his forehead. Michael rubbed his head intensively as a groan was produced, barely glancing to his friend as he started, "Sam, are we?-"

"I'm afraid so," the professor finished with an unfortunate tune.

Instantly, Delia jumped in with pleading eyes. "Sam, you have to tell me! What did-"

But Delia's question was prematurely cut short. The abrupt and long squeaking of a door opening led to three figures making a grand entrance. They took center stage in the middle of the faintly lit room, lights eventually brightening to their full capacity to reveal the new faces.

Faces that both stunned Ash and didn't at the same time.

"I see our catch of the day is finally awake."

"Den I suppose we betta give dem the low down!"

"_You three_?!" Ash blurted, tightly gripping the bars.

"We're on the outside so prepare for trouble!"

"But we were on the inside and made the deceptive trouble double!"

Those distinct voices, those silly action poses, and those contrived threats through rhyming... Ash should have considered this particular Team Rocket trio to be prime suspects. They were, after all, the ones who constantly trailed him and practically had come to know nearly everything about him as much as his friends had. To put it in simple terms, Ash felt duped for not finding it odd they weren't lurking around town, waiting to snatch Pikachu for another round of senseless battling. They must have blended in somehow, feeding information to Giovanni, somewhere close by so they could keep watch...

Delia appeared very startled by their sudden reveal, as she pointed her index finger with blinking stunned eyes. "Wait! Are you two?-"

"Don't even bother with your stupid motto!" Ash hastily cut in. He was in no mood to tolerate hearing their ridiculous motto, and overlooked the start of his mother's pondering.

Jessie, and James, and Meowth nearly fell to their feet amidst their rehearsed poses at the trainer's brash and abrupt declare. Though the three villains snapped back rather quickly, Jessie being the first to react with a snarky retort. "Oh, but twerp, don't you want to know who was the mastermind behind your ensnaring?"

"Your boss," Ash snidely responded, as if it wasn't already obvious enough.

"It was the boss's idea all right, but it was us who orchestrated the whole event!" James chimed in, baring a smile. A grin that showed so many teeth it almost seemed forced...

While his mouth was agape, the words were difficult to form and escape from his throat. "H-how?!" Ash eventually shouted eyes wide. "How could you three clowns possibly do- _this_?!"

Their track record was a bit askew- basically consisting of countless times they failed rather than achieved their mission. Natural born failures they were. Not hardened criminals who had a knack for executing the most sensitive of crimes. Ash could see those grunts relaying simple messages and, at some point, mess that task up somehow. But to be the ones in charge of the kidnapping and oversee it? That seemed almost unfathomable. Especially after that chilling break-in... Even Ash thought those three agents weren't_ that_ bad. Indeed, how could _this _particularly foppish trio be responsible for their kidnapping?

"We ain't idiots!" Meowth attempted to defend.

Though with such pompous coolness, Jessie boasted about their victory. "We had reinforcements, as you obviously meant. And if you hadn't put up such a fuss, you'd be in much better condition. But I must say, our identities of Jason and Celia really sealed the deal," she admitted with a giggle.

A small gasp fell from Delia's mouth. "So you are- and you!- You two- y-you _lied_ to me?" Her heart instantly sunk, then rose with intensified outright fury. "You_ used_ me! Pretending to be some couple in desperate need of help! How could you stoop so low?"

"'Fraid we had to, Snow White," Jessie answered, unmoved. "Of course, we only used you so the boss could get to your runaway husband."

Now, Delia's heart made a giant leap up into her throat. No. No, they couldn't have captured Jay! While she didn't have the slightest idea what was occurring, the idea of Jay being in just as much danger terrified the woman. Even if he had been absent for so long... Ash, too, was feeling a similar tingle of foreboding anxiety. The expression was translated upon his face with bright worry, until Jessie extinguished it with another smirk.

"Don't worry, twerp. Daddy and his little friends got away- _again_. He's about as difficult to catch as your Pikachu. Lucky for us, though, we doubled our capturing rate!"

"That's right, twerp!" James jumped in, the first time he appeared genuinely excited. "We not only fulfilled a mission, but we finally caught Pikachu! For real!"

To hear Jay and Misty and whoever else was with them was safe was beyond relieving, but to hear that Pikachu had been successfully captured by Team Rocket who could be doing God knows what to him...that wasn't shocking to discover, but was severely alarming.

Ash's fears immediately escalated to a whole new level, clenched teeth showing between the cold solid bars that entrapped him. "Give me back Pikachu!" he demanded as always.

"Why do you always say that?" Jessie asked in annoyance. "You know we won't comply, so why bother?"

"If you idiots hurt or use him, I swear to God I'll-"

"You'll what?" she continued to mock. "Kick and scream 'til you turn blue in the face?"

That about did him in. Any sort of composure had dissipated and was long gone. After that horrendous night of combating Gary, publicly humiliating his family, and then to be ambushed in his own home... Ash couldn't take anymore. _Wouldn't _take anymore. He didn't care what was to come next. His mind was in a whirl of hatred and revenge, and those zealous feelings were going to be lashed out to the man who stirred this whole pot of trouble to begin with.

"Arrgh! I want to speak with Giovanni _right_ now!" Ash ordered passionately.

In response, Jessie wagged her finger with a shake of her head. "No can do, twerp. The boss is occupied."

"And besides, you've gotta be kiddin' yourself if you seriously tink da boss would take orders from da likes of you," Meowth threw in with a toothy snicker.

"You'll just have to wait for the little meet and greet. I promise you it won't be long! So until then, enjoy prison!"

And with that, the villainous trio left, closing the door with a thunderous slam that blended perfectly with their boisterous cackles. All four captives sat in their cells with utter looks of fright and dread. That is, until Ash's eyes grew exceptionally dark, turning his focus on the professor with a blinding glare. It was impossible to glance away. It was a look far worse than any glower Sam had received. This look surpassed any shame he endured from his wife during their divorce, or any fervent disappointment from Chad when the man accidentally taped over his son's seventh birthday party to record and study the awkward copulation of the infamous headache ridden Pysduck. No. This glare was something the professor couldn't tear away from without a lump logging in his airways and refusing to disembark down his throat.

Ash's voice rumbled as low as it could go. "_You_."

"Ash, I can explain-"

"You bastard!" he snarled without hesitation.

Delia immediately reacted. "_Ashton_!"

Her disapproving and appalled expression did no good in wavering her son's temper. "He lied to us, Mom!" Ash adamantly declared, as if his vulgar language was justified. "He _knew_ where Dad was and what he was doing the whole time! You practically took him away from me! _My_ dad, and you didn't even have the decency to tell Mom what was going on!-"

"Ash, I know! I'm upset about all of this, too!" she shouted back, matching his level of volume. "But that still doesn't give you the right to call him that!"

Her words surprisingly made Ash pause, squinting in befuddlement. "What do you mean you know?" the trainer rebutted. Then, his eyes hardened. "Have you known the entire time, too?-"

"Ash, no," Delia quickly clarified, wanting to ease his excitement. "I- I just found out last night."

Now it was Sam's turn to balk in amazement. How did Delia find out about any of this? Had Jay finally caved into the temptation of at last speaking to his wife? Is that why they were embroiled in this hapless predicament? Drawing close to the bars, the professor leaned in and croaked. "From whom?"

His hoarse voice drew Delia's eyes back to him. Instead of fierce anger and betrayal like her son's, Delia's were mixed with another combination altogether. Perplexity was obviously evident, but there was also a sense of sadness, regret, and somehow-

Blame.

It took her some odd long painstaking seconds, but eventually, Delia's trembling lips uttered his name. "From Jay. He called the house, Sam. And I still don't understand what in the world is going on! What has Jay done?!"

Delia's cheeks were already beginning to cascade with tears, forcing Sam to glance away out of guilt- behaving like a coward. But there was nowhere to run to anymore. And Michael reminded him of such as he stared at him, silently telling his old friend to speak up. Confronting Delia about the truth had been long overdue. The professor just never imagined having to tell both her and Ash what had happened to the man they loved while sitting in their own designated cells.

"You have no idea how much I've wanted to tell you about Jayce, Delia," Prof. Oak started quietly. Then, his eyes met hers. "I'll explain what he told me, what happened to him...why he left. I'll explain everything."

* * *

It was early morning; the sun was not even kissing its rays upon the quiet town.

All night, he couldn't get a wink of sleep.

Brock had taken refuge on the Parkers' living room sofa, which, while fairly comfortable, had plush cushions that did him no good in drifting off to slumber land.

Tracey had snored and stirred on and off during the night. He was sleeping rather askew on the recliner, the blanket halfway dangling off his body. They had talked a good portion of the night in low whispers before accepting they needed their rest by the bright glow of the moon.

But eyes refused to close for Brock.

Every time he forcefully shut his eyes, all he could think about was Ash. What Ash had said to him and the sincere look of disbelief he cast upon his face when Brock revealed the truth concerning Jay. And then, the glare of hatred that soon followed.

And those words. Those angry, bewildered, hurt words that poured between every just tear that graced Ash's bruised face. Those words swarmed in Brock's head, and slowly, without any rebuke or mercy, glided down his throat and into his sunken heart.

As he swung his legs onto the floor and sat up, the college student gazed up forlornly at the ceiling. Brock was going to make things right. One way or another, he wasn't going to let this deception come between him and his friend.

"Couldn't sleep?"

He turned to find Dani standing at the end of the staircase, wearing just shorts and a Dedenne printed tank top. Her hair was a little tousled from sleeping, which caused Brock's cheeks to immediately redden. But he kept himself in check as he stared back down at the outdated shag carpet.

"Nope," was all he said.

Wandering eyes glanced off to the side as Dani pulled her arms tightly around her body. She drew closer. "Me neither," the girl replied, biting her lower lip.

Eventually, she made her way over and plopped down next to Brock. With just her first glimpse of Brock that morning, Dani could see how Ash and Gary's brawl had taken a toll on him. He looked like a wreck, and she could only imagine how he felt. Whatever was exchanged between him and Ash, it wasn't pretty and clearly didn't help Ash any...or Brock. Bags under his eyes and the constant rubbing of his face indicated such.

In a bath of silence, both teenagers remained sitting on the couch, fidgeting with their hands awkwardly. Well, besides Tracey's obvious faint snoring.

Until Dani decided to speak up. "Last night was something else, wasn't it?" she started to say, the hint of residual shock evident in her voice.

Brock nodded steadily, still staring down. "Yeah. Unbelievable." He tried not to get too wrapped up in the idea of Dani sitting so close to him. Especially with her thigh just barely caressing his own...

"When Ash ran off-" Dani paused for a moment, as if considering her wording. Then, she continued. "Did- did he say anything to you? I mean, about why he did it. Why he fought with Gary? All I can say is, it better _not _have been something petty."

Oh, it wasn't. But being bound by silence, Brock could not speak of such truths. Instead, he held Dani's gaze with unmoved eyes and definite frown. "No. He wouldn't say."

This seemed to suffice the girl as she stared back ahead, eyes cast upon the unlit fireplace. "Well, whatever it was... I just hope everything will be remedied sooner than later."

Unfortunately for Brock, he knew that wish was more than far reaching.

It felt impossible.

* * *

He sat there. Sulking.

Gary's eyes refused to tear away from the kitchen tabletop as he endured yet another lecturing rant from his mother. To say Annie was livid was an understatement. She had given him the most brutal verbal grueling he had ever received, and Gary didn't dare fight back against her warranted angered words.

He knew he was in the wrong. He knew the damage he had caused. Gary did have to admit, however, that while his mom was in the right, he didn't need to be reminded over and _over _again about his ghastly mistakes. Especially with Harper being present. He had already made a giant ass of himself in front of her, and so, the teenager didn't need his riled mother embarrassing him all the more.

It was Chad who remained unflappable. He was the parent trying to ease the distressed and infuriated waters before anything got too out of hand. It was his neutral words that at last gave Annie's hoarse voice and sore throat a reprieve for the late night, having him step in to talk to his son.

Man to man.

Yet nothing. Gary didn't bother cooperating much, other than shrugging at his father's questioning. Being emotionally and physically drained, Chad didn't push the teenager too much and wandered off to bed without making any headway.

Night felt like an eternity for Gary. Lying there without a wink of sleep. Thinking. Regretting.

Hoping he could somehow mend things with everyone.

Dreary eyes peered up from his soggy cereal to his mother. Annie was busy sprucing up the kitchen before Ash and Delia arrived. The mothers had very briefly discussed what to do about the damages before Delia took off searching for Ash. While their conversation was rushed, it was evident the two agreed that consequences needed to be in place and, more importantly, their sons needed to get past whatever had spurred this ugly skirmish.

And they were going to do it right then and there.

After wiping the bar counter top, Annie rung out her dishcloth in the sink and began to cleanse the kitchen counters. Then, she gave Gary a counseling eye. "Now when they get here, don't you _dare _give Ash one look or say anything remotely snide, or so help me God, _Gareth_-"

She stopped herself short at that, her frazzled mind finding it challenging to focus on her train of thought. Instead, the blonde woman just huffed loudly and went back to scrubbing the marbled surface.

_Gareth, _he scoffed silently. She never called him by his full name. Then again, he had never had his mother this infuriated with him before, either.

The teenager continued to frown, feeling too weak to bother worrying about how he was going to explain himself. About what would happen when Ash declared Gary's little exchange of information- because Gary knew that wasn't a might. It was a definite belief that his cousin would tell the truth. And Gary had no grandiose lie to cover his tracks. He was cornered, like a lower-leveled Pokémon he had ensnared once in the wild. And he knew he deserved every bit of it.

Entering the kitchen, Chad walked by and glanced at his son. The physical marks left behind by Gary and Ash's violent escapade made him cringe a little. Bruises were evident on his face and arms, as well as a cut lip. Chad could see why his son had a bottle of ibuprofen sitting beside his hardly touched breakfast.

He was also aware Annie wasn't too pleased having to abruptly cancel her meeting with a potential client, one of Emily's friends in particular, who was looking for someone to redesign both her kitchen and dining room. This woman was an important client, and having to reschedule under these unfortunate circumstances... Annie's tolerance was thinning minute by minute. Plus, she was anxious about Delia and Ash coming over, which was obvious to Chad as well. The last thing she needed was for Gary to make an ass of himself- _again_. No. This time, she wasn't going to beat around the bush and allow another meaningless bicker between the boys slide by. Whatever happened between the teenagers was going to be sorted out whether it took mere minutes or hours.

It was finally time to cut through all the nonsense and get to the real source of their ongoing animosity.

Coming up by her side, Chad leaned into his wife's ear. "Annie, try easing up on him a little," he cautioned softly. "Ya already gave him an earful last night. I think he's got the message." He too took the day off from work, which he wasn't thrilled about, but recognized it was necessary.

Annie bristled at his request and twirled to face him. "_Ease up_? Chad, do you have any idea what kind of damage Gary's caused?"

He sighed. "Annie, I know he destroyed a lot of stuff at the inn-"

"It's not just about collateral damage, Chad. It's about his reputation as a person! What people will think of him! About how his _choices _affected others. Do you think many people are gonna want to stay at the inn now?"

Chad matched her lowered, but assertive whisper. "It's not like there were guests or anything. And who's gonna tell?"

"Oh, you should know better than that, Chad!" Annie retorted, as she started scrubbing the counter _again_. This time pointlessly out of frustration. "With all the gossiping biddies around- this news will be like crack cocaine to them!-"

A gentle but firm hand reached out and ceased Annie's senseless cleaning. Chad rubbed his wife's knuckles affectionately, a silent reminder to stay calm and that, in time, everything _was_ going to be fine. That Gary was capable of owning up to his poor choices.

That they hadn't totally failed.

Beyond her husband's broad but toned shoulder, Annie thought of just that as she gazed upon her depressed son. By the glum expression on Gary's face alone, she knew he was drowning in guilt. In the past, whenever a scuffle occurred between him and Ash, her son was quick to defend and deflect the trouble and blame away from him. So perhaps age had matured him to fall silent and endure his parents' ongoing rants of disappointment, soaking it all in... And yet, Annie felt there was more to the situation than simple maturity.

Grounding herself with a deep breath, Annie glanced at the clock on the wall nearby, then back into her husband's green eyes. "I think I'll have to call Delia," she started. "She was supposed to be here by now with Ash."

In return, Chad nodded and proceeded to fetch his own breakfast while Annie retrieved the handset.

Within mere seconds of their conversation, Harper strolled down the stairs. She was wearing a casual summer dress with a messy bun, appearing to be ready to leave the Oaks' residence with her belongings in tow. Rather pathetically, Gary peered at his girlfriend for under a minute, trying to quietly translate his late and overheard apologies. How he couldn't stand the thought of losing her once more after he had attempted to gain her love back due to his own faults. Unfortunately, he wasn't able to read Harper's expression, as Chad called out for the girl's attention.

"Harper, do you still need me to give you a ride home this morning?" Chad inquired, figuring she was eager to leave after last night's fiasco.

It had been discussed—no, settled without the teenagers' decision that Harper was to head back home the next morning. They had made the arrangements late that evening with her father, which he agreed to without argument, though he hardly knew what exactly his daughter's boyfriend had done. As of now, Gary was beyond grounded- and taking away phone rights, laptop rights, and anything involving Harper was essential until he got his act together.

And silently, Harper too thought it was best.

The green haired girl flashed a small smile at Chad. "I talked with my dad and he said I could come home this afternoon. I was hoping to go to the lab and see the new water habitat the professor and Tracey made. As long as it's okay with you, Mr. Oak."

With his neck sinking into his shoulders, Gary watched his dad converse with Harper, stating he was perfectly fine with her request. After that, she didn't even give a second look. No, _couldn't_ look at him. But he couldn't help himself from being fixated on her. Gradually, over his shoulder, Gary observed the first girl he ever truly cared about walk out the door without any hesitation.

It would be the most bitter of goodbyes if she chose never to see or speak to him again.

* * *

All she could do was watch for her to walk in the front entrance.

The clock ticked past nine thirty. Still no sign of Delia.

Leah twisted her mouth in befuddlement. On most occasions, Delia would arrive at the inn before Leah herself even would. Once Ash left for his journey, it seemed Delia found most of her time spent usefully working, instead of brooding at home worrying herself to death. It kept her busy, and in doing so, left Leah with little to do in the morning. The woman budgeted her time very wisely, putting it to good use with a particular morning routine. The desk straightened and organized, coffee brewing, Delia already wrangling in Michelle for the day with her latest excitement in the kitchen...

But like most humans, Delia running late was a reasonable and highly likely explanation. Besides, she was speaking with Annie and Chad after all. Perhaps it would take much longer than anyone anticipated for things to be half-way straightened out...

A lot had to be said. And a lot needed fixing. Not just the inn's interior design, but between Ash and Gary too.

Keeping an even and calm mind, Leah tried to give Delia a little more time before becoming too engrossed in her concerns. That is, until the company phone rang.

"Hello, Butterfree Inn. Oh, hi Annie." Leah instantly made a face. "_What_? Delia still hasn't shown up?" She listened, swallowed, and eased her thoughts again. "Okay," she said into the phone. "Let me try calling her. Maybe she and Ash are talking. All right. I'll call you back soon."

Hanging up, Leah breathed deeply through her nostrils. What in the world was going on? The uncharacteristic behavior began to stir an awful wrenching in the pit of the woman's stomach. But, she forcefully suppressed the temptation to worry. There was no need to jump to any outlandish conclusions. No need to think of the absolute worst. Delia _could _have stopped somewhere. Perhaps the grocery store, or the post office, or she could just be outside watering the garden... But still, the idea of her not being at Annie's like she had said she would, and then being over an hour late to work with no word...

The only rational explanation Leah could think of was that either Delia just left for Annie and Chad's and was running behind, or she and Ash were having a heated argument that no ringing device could halt.

As promised, Leah quickly punched in the numbers to her daughter's residence and pressed the handset to her ear.

The phone rang once. Then twice, Then three times. The four times. The five times...

Nothing. No answer. Just the answering machine.

So Leah waited a few minutes or so. Then called again. Still nothing.

Confused, the woman placed the phone down and leaned against the top of the front desk. There had to be a logical answer to both Delia and Ash's inability to answer the phone. Something reasonable had to explain everything and soothe the start of something strangely foreboding festering inside Leah.

But the inn keeper wasn't going to sit by and wait for a reply. She was going to call Annie back and tell the woman of her fruitless phone calls. And then, to be on the safe side, Leah decided she would call her husband and ask him to do a small favor.

* * *

The pleasant sound of Pidgey chirping filled the air.

The morning sun was about the only form of stress relief Harper had been graced with.

Going to sleep was impossible and then to wake with Gary and his mother at battle left her on edge and wishing to leave. She couldn't even give her boyfriend a glance as they rode home that previous night, and hadn't said a word to him since.

But then to see him this morning... Harper pitied Gary, and while displeased with his outrageous actions, she could see the cast of shame in his blue eyes. Something wasn't right. There was something more to it all. Gary wasn't combating his parents with his usual quick wit and snarky remarks of defense. He almost appeared sedate. Staring down with a thin frown. He took in all their words, not even making an ounce of a fuss.

Gary _knew _what he did was wrong. He agreed with his parent's outright fury and in doing so, couldn't concoct an exemplary counter argument.

What hurt the most was Harper's own warning. She had given Gary one final chance to prove himself decent and worthy of her company, only for it to be thrown back in her face. As if he didn't take her seriously.

As if it meant nothing to him.

A misting of tears swelled up in her eyes. Upon their birth, she removed her foggy glasses and smeared them with the back of her hand. Harper didn't want to end her relationship with the boy she had grown to love- but could she stand his erratic behavior, his instigating and belittling of Ash? And what about his temper? His gumption to fight openly at a public event with no restraints?

It was that rehashing of hideous events that made Harper question everything.

In time, the trainer climbed to the very top of the winding staircase. From there, she knocked on the door of the lab and waited patiently. A minute or so passed before she attempted to peep into the window of the lab. The curtains were drawn. Harper frowned at this and stood in front of the door again. Then, her ears keened in on the surrounding noises.

No resonating animalistic calls were heard from inside the lab or out on Prof. Oak's property. Actually, there were no Pokémon out to begin with. That alone indicated to the trainer that something was amidst. She knew Prof. Oak was an early riser, as Gary had brought her over to the lab at an ungodly hour a time or two. Surely, Tracey would be bright-eyed and bushy-tailed as well, along with the Pokémon trailing behind him. And what about that Dr. Strayer fellow?

For a final time Harper knocked on the door. When she received no indicator of someone's presence, she dared to grip the door of the home. Strangely, it was unlocked.

And what was stranger, is what the girl found inside.

* * *

Back at the Parker residence, the kitchen was bustling with traffic.

On each side of the table, as if to claim their begging territory, Rex and Fly took to whimpering for food scraps by susceptible diners with soft eyes and wagging behinds. Dani and Tracey had helped themselves to the scrumptious meal, prepared by Ophelia and Brock with Mr. Mime's swift assistance of setting the table. The pair was occupied finishing off cooking the pancake batter, while Ernest entered into the house, his hand-workers following from behind. They had taken care of the early morning chores, now rewarding themselves with some buttery grub before getting back out there in the pasture.

As the men washed up and took their spots at the table, the phone suddenly chimed.

Wiping her mouth, Dani hastily rose from her seat. "I'll get it!" she volunteered.

She went for the old phone stationed on the wall by one of the kitchen counters, and answered. "Hello? Oh, hi Grandma." She glanced over her shoulder, her eyes focused on one person alone. "Uh yeah, I'll get Grandpa."

As he dried his hands with a towel, Ernest picked up at the sound of himself being mentioned. He arched a brow in curiosity as Dani motioned for him to come over. By the tone of his granddaughter's voice, the farmer's mind pricked with interest, wondering why Dani's words seemed hesitant.

"It's Grandma," she announced, covering the phone with her hand. "She sounds worried."

Ernest nodded, thanking the girl, then took the phone. "What do ya need, hon?" he asked.

"I need you to go by Delia's house and check on her and Ash," he heard his wife say rather speedily. "Delia didn't show up at Annie's this morning. She was supposed to be there an hour ago and be here at work by now and-"

"Slow down, Leah," Ernest urged with warmth and yet confusion. "What do you mean Delia ain't at work?"

Now everyone in the house was intrigued. Those dining stopped eating. Brock and Ophelia soon took a break from flipping pancakes, and even Mr. Mime paused from his obsessive sweeping ritual. They all observed Ernest attentively, seeing deep wrinkles soon form across his forehead as he listened to his wife's rant.

"That's odd," he started slowly. Then, the man listened some more. "All right. All right, I'll go and check in on 'em. I'm sure they're there, Leah. They're probably just fighting or somethin' about going over to Annie's. Okay. I'll call you back to let you know. Don't worry.

"No need to rush, you two." His words were directed to his hand workers, once he hung up the phone. Sighing, Ernest elaborated on the development. "I gotta run over to Delia's. Apparently she and Ash didn't show up at Annie's. And now your momma's worried 'cause Delia or Ash ain't answering."

This time, his attention was directed at his eldest daughter. Ophelia frowned at this with lowered eyebrows. "Fighting about last night, I presume?"

"Oh, I'm sure." Ernest sighed loudly, as if he was almost dreading to head over to Delia's house. He had about had it with Ash's behavior, and was in no mood to deal with his grandson's combativeness for another round. Last night about dealt Ernest in, his voice faintly hoarse, his eyes dreary, his muscles achy... The emotional fatigue really wore on him.

As the farmer began his journey to the front door, he nearly tripped over the constant swishing of a worn dust filled broom. "Goddammit!" Stumbling a little, Ernest caught himself by clinging onto the stairway banister, before peering over his shoulder to glower rather harshly at the culprit.

It was Mr. Mime, fully equipped in his personal apron and sweat dropping at his accidental run in. He was in the process of setting the broom aside, already eager to run over to Delia's residence with Ernest. Though the farmer wasn't reciprocating his kind advances too well.

"Get outta my way you stupid son of a!-"

"_Dad_!" Ophelia scolded very sternly as she stood in between the kitchen and living room. "He just wants to help!"

"That's all he ever wants to do! Never means no harm, just wants to help in any way he can!" Ernest carried on, as if he had heard this speech delivered time and time again. "And why do ya'll always gotta defend that damn mime anyhow?! Even you two do it!"

The finger pointing was directed at Keith and Rick, one still busily eating away while the other balanced a tooth pink in between his teeth.

"Like Ophelia said, he's only tryin' to help," Keith justified with a subtle smirk.

Ernest narrowed his eyebrows and huffed in return. "Yeah, uh-huh," he muttered under his breath as walked to the front door. "Some help he is. Shoulda nicknamed him Lassie. Now wait!-"

Before the farmer knew it, that overly neighborly mime was out the door and down the porch steps. Ernest's fists tightened against his sides as the Pokémon encouraged him to hurry along with constant calling.

Ophelia leaned against the entryway between the kitchen and living room with her arms folded. "Just let him go with you, Dad."

If he was anticipating a screaming match with Ash, which was highly plausible, Ernest stubbornly took his daughter's advice and decided not to fuss over Mr. Mime's eagerness to please. Instead, he stuck to his signature response: grumbling.

"The things I do for this family..."

The jaunt over to the house was short, yet with Mr. Mime right by his side, it felt like an eternity for Ernest. The neighborhood was its usual quiet and quaint self. Nothing odd or out of the ordinary. Which included Delia's house. When he approached the white picket fence, Ernest heard no signs of yelling or refusals to leave. Actually, Delia's truck remained park by the fence. Scratching his head at this, Ernest waltzed up to the door and gave a good knock. No response. He knocked again. Then twice. Then three times...

Mr. Mime cast an expression of anxiety, followed by a soft cry of some sort. In response, Ernest raised an eyebrow, glancing at the Pokémon then back to the front door. He had knocked out of courtesy, but decided to set politeness aside and venture in himself. He turned the knob only to find it locked. The whole situation felt strange to him, and when the farmer tried to think of a logical explanation, rationale was tainted by festering concern. Even so, he kept on calming his nerves silently for both himself and wife. The last thing he needed was to let his imagination get the best of him.

Rummaging through his jean pocket, Ernest pulled out a ring of keys and soon inserted the correct one into the knob. With one twist and click, he and Mr. Mime were permitted to enter, but what they found inside left them both nearly falling to their knees. Instantaneously, the pair became engrossed at the evidence of chaos before them. The house looked like a tornado had whipped through. Mr. Mime was the first to move, his manic yelps intensifying as he raced into the living room and then into the kitchen. Neither could believe what they saw. Broken furniture, shattered and dispersed glass, fallen items, and-

Blood. Little pools of deep red coagulated liquid trailing across the living room rug.

He turned a ghostly complexion and panicked.

"DELIA! ASH!"

Frantically, Ernest nearly lost his footing as he hysterically called out their names as loud as his lungs would allow and charged up the stairs. Like a maniac, he looked about everywhere, from the bathroom to the bedrooms. No sign of their presence. His head spun at an incredible rate, feeling dizzy and utterly stupefied. Grappling with logic and calmness was becoming impossible as he struggled back down the stairs.

"Delia, Ash- PIKACHU?!" His tone had grown weak and uneasy, a hand running through his balding head. "Oh, God!"

Abruptly, his wild eyes dash to the presence beside him holding a cordless phone.

Perhaps Ernest needed Mr. Mime after all. If it wasn't for him, Ernest wasn't too sure he would have picked up the phone to call 911. And that was something he was willing to admit.

* * *

The morning in the senior Ketchum household went about as normal.

Though Emily was more irritable and short than ever.

"Gretchen, I can still smell that Bruxish from two nights ago! I want the odor gone by the time I get back home!"

She was walking with her usual prideful stride, until stopping to find her daughter coming down the stairs. She had slept in and taken a soothing bath earlier that morning, taking full advantage of a slow-paced morning compared to her usual schedule.

"Zelda, will you make sure that it's done?"

The woman nodded, overhearing her mother's strange demand earlier at the top of the staircase. "I'll try to help."

"I don't want you doing her job," Emily made sure to make clear. "I just want you to keep on her so she doesn't let it slide by. I'll be hosting a D.K.R meeting tomorrow with that abhorrent Martha Pennington, and I'll be damned if Gretchen lets that putrid odor linger for another day."

Any other day Zelda would have complied instantly without question. But as she watched her mother's rigid movements and heard her rather sharp tone, the woman began to wonder if there was something more than just the smell of a flamboyantly colored fish that irked Emily Ketchum.

"You okay, Mom?" Zelda questioned carefully.

"Yes," she breathed, exasperated, "why wouldn't I be?"

"Uh, no reason. You just seem a little tense-"

"I'm fine, Zelda."

It would appear not. Still, Zelda didn't make a fuss over it. Reading her mother's facial signals alone, she restrained herself from prying, even though her intentions were good. She was fully aware how upset her mother was over Ash and Gary's latest debacle, assuming quickly Emily's mood had something to do with that.

"When you get a chance, call your brother today and tell him to stop sending us Bruxish," Emily instructed, cutting off Zelda's wondering thoughts.

The mention of Drake alone prompted Zelda to blink. "But he's on vacation-"

"They have cellphone reception at the Valencia Pokémon Center and I'm sure he can spare a few minutes from surfing in that infested water. If he doesn't answer, just leave a message. And don't forget to pick out your wedding dress from those samples I ordered. I want to get your custom dress placed before some plastic bridezilla fills our spot."

She attempted to speak again, but found no voice as Emily hollered for her father to move along from upstairs. "Richard, you better hurry up! You'll be late for your meeting."

And with that, Zelda withdrew herself from any attempt to coerce Emily into talking, for it would most likely end in failure. Breathing a sigh of mild annoyance, Zelda journeyed to the gathering room sofa and flipped through the magazine at her mother's request. Though she knew, inevitably, Emily would dislike the dress she picked, and select one she believed would flatter her daughter's features and figure. As much as she wanted a veil, she already knew Emily had a crown in mind for her.

Examining herself one last time in the lavish hanging mirror nearby, Emily could hear her husband come down the stairs, eventually freezing in his tracks.

At the very bottom of the steps, Richard gave a disgusted sniff. "Is that?-"

"The fish, I know," his wife finished without even glancing over her shoulder. She grabbed her hospital ID tag from her purse. "Zelda's going to tell Drake not to send us any more Bruxish."

"Fine by me," Richard replied too willingly as he came forward. "I've always been a more meat and potatoes man myself."

Now she looked at him with a stern eye. "Don't think you're getting out of eating healthier meat, Richard," Emily warned. "I'll just tell Drake to send us some Finneon instead."

"Oh Emily, there's hardly any flavor to that, let alone meat-!"

"Richard, I thought you had a meeting to prepare for?" she remarked sharply, changing the subject before a pointless spat broke out.

The tone of his wife's voice either went unnoticed or he gave it no attention as the man seemed to snap back into focus. "Oh, right, right. I just need to get my shoes and I shall be out."

As would she. But God, did she feel like an utter mess. A headache insisted on lingering from the prior evening, in which she hardly obtained any sort of rest. There was no exception of showing her current feelings, however. She and Richard had gone home in near silence. He had attempted speaking to her once she had left Delia's house, only to receive a cold reply that everything was fine and Delia could handle locating Ash on her own. To Emily's relief, Richard was too physically and emotionally bushed to bother interrogating any further and gave up without much of a fight.

While no one knew it, Emily herself couldn't dismiss what had been exchanged between her and Delia. She was still piqued by her daughter-in-law's words, dreading the idea of simply driving by her residence.

After one final minor fluffing to her hair, Emily reached for the strap of her purse and took one step forward. Her tracks unexpectedly ended there as the phone suddenly blared close by. She let it ring twice before huffing noticeably. Impatient for the hired help to pick up the line, the doctor took matters into her own hands, marched over, and in a slightly exasperated voice answered the phone.

"Yes, Ketchum Residence?"

Out of nowhere, as the color began to dramatically drain from her face, Richard entered into the room once again. However, he began to speak rather loudly with irritation, completely unaware of his wife's currently stunned state.

"Emily!" he belted, throwing his hands up into the air, and then, they soon hit his sides. "I can't seem to find the shoe-horn! I'm already late for my phone conference with Sinnoh's League and I can't find it. We are picking up a new client, a champion- that Cynthia woman who's all over those wretched global enquirers at the checkout stand.

"Now, have you taken it again?" he asked, sounding twice as peeved as before. He didn't appreciate her blatant ignoring of his presence. "I know that you need if for those four inch torture devices you call shoes, but I need it once in a while, so would you kindly make it expendable for my use?"

Again, no response. It was then Richard walked forward, coming to his wife's side with both agitation and wonderment to her total disregard.

"Emily, have you a heard a word I said? _Emily_?"

At last, the insurance man became witness to his wife's lack of pigment to her cheeks. Her mouth was agape, eyes wide and full of something Richard could only interpret as distraught. Instantly, a gentle hand placed itself upon her shoulder, all indignation melting away as concern rapidly took over.

"Emily, what's wrong?"

Emily didn't flinch. All she did was swallow.

"Yes. Yes, we'll be down immediately."

Remaining in suspense, Richard observed his wife hang up the phone with an unsteady hand. It took her a few seconds before she turned to him, brown eyes full of unimaginable shock, yet sedate at the same time.

"Cancel your phone conference," Emily ordered in a rather strange flat tone.

Richard huffed at this. "I can't do that-"

"Ash and Delia are _missing_."

* * *

A roll of crime scene tape unraveled itself across the Ketchum residence's front lawn.

From word of mouth, a huge crowd of townsfolk circled the outskirts of the Ketchum's small lot of property. It was as if the entire town crawled out of their homes, half standing before Delia's house while an even larger herd wandered off to the Oak lab. Many approached and shoved as far as they could to get the Ketchum's fence, only to be blocked and harshly whistled and yelled at to back up and respect the boundaries by police officers.

Closest to the residence were Leah, Ernest, and Michelle. Behind them, Ophelia stood with Dani, Brock, and Tracey. No one knew what to think. No one could process the images before them.

Nothing made sense.

Located on the Ketchum lawn was the one and only Officer Jenny from the Viridian Police Force. She was now the deputy chief of her division, officially presented with the right to give orders and receive reports. Half of her team went to the Oak lab to investigate, while five other officers stood by, two standing outside handling the crowd, the others inside the house.

As for her, the deputy chief stood scanning her surroundings. Thinking. Reflecting over the report Detective Lieutenant Liam Robinson had given her.

_We're dealing with a missing persons case here. Delia Marie Ketchum, age thirty-four, reported missing and possibly assaulted and kidnapped along with her sixteen year old son Ashton Jayce Ketchum. Delia grew up in Pallet; she works for her mother as a manager at the local Butterfree Inn; never attended college, no petty offences, no criminal history in total... _

_No reason for her to be involved in a crime. _

And then there was Ash.

Jenny didn't need Liam to explain who he was. At least, the boy she recalled those six years ago. The young Pokémon trainer from Pallet with an injured Pikachu he was struggling to care for. Being a new trainer sure brought about unforeseen challenges Ash hadn't clearly prepared himself for at the time. And now she had learned he had grown in his field, and had become somewhat of a success story for Pallet's trainers and its small community. Thinking how simple their lives were made it difficult to conceive the concept of this boy and his mother being involved in some unexplainable disappearance.

It just didn't add up. Jenny had no idea where this investigation was going to lead her.

Coming to her side, Jenny's second in command, Liam, left the house and approached the woman with a low voice and foreboding eyes.

"Jenny," he started quietly in her ear as be came from behind, "I think you should take a look at this."

With a motion of his head the deputy chief followed, only for their whispering and sudden venture into the house to cause an uproar on the dirt road. They ignored such, though, and proceeded into the broken home.

Taking a few steps in, Jenny soaked in the crime scene. She had spoken with the Parker family outside while her officers did an intense scope of the house. Now it was her turn to investigate, and unfortunately, she caught sight of a liquid she had hoped she wouldn't see.

"Blood."

Jenny glanced at Liam, then back down at the little pool. Small droplets trailed away from the coagulated puddle, eventually disappearing altogether. Then, there was splatter of blood in the kitchen and an uneven streak stretching on the dismantled coffee table.

At least, that's all she took note of at the time.

"Is this all?" the deputy chief asked.

"As far as we can tell," Liam answered.

Jenny placed her hands on her hips and sighed. "I want samples collected immediately."

"Already on it."

"There must have been a struggle," she pondered, now stroking her chin. "It started in the kitchen and ended up here... Is anything missing?"

Liam shook his head. "Not as far as we could tell," he responded. "The back door looks like it had been picked, so there could have been a break-in. But from what Mr. Parker says, nothing was stolen."

Then what kind of crime was this? Right off the bat, Jenny figured this wasn't going to be a simple burglary. Perhaps there was motive behind it all. After all, Prof. Oak and Dr. Strayer weren't only gone, but the Oak lab was ransacked too, as if an intruder had been passionately searching for something- so why wasn't Delia's house scavenged? What was occurring that made both these neighbors involved?

Jenny said nothing for a few moments, and then sputtered out another question. "Do we know if Delia and the professor had any kind of a relationship?"

Liam arched a brow at this. "Other than that Prof. Oak stored her son's Pokémon for him and that they were neighbors, no. There's no suggestion anything was going on... Do you think they were involved?"

"I don't know," she shrugged, feeling a bit puzzled by it all. "I'm just going off any possible lead I can think of."

That wild lead, however, didn't go too far as the detective's thoughts were hastily disconnected by the sound of footsteps. Soon, two officers, a man and woman, came down the staircase. Evidently they had finished their sweep of the bedrooms and upstairs bathroom. Looking up, Jenny acknowledged her subordinates' presences, noticing them coming forward with a new piece of evidence in a transparent bag.

"We found what looks like the boy's pokebelt," the female officer informed, holding the 'belt with gloves. "There's only five pokeballs on this 'belt, ma'am. Do you think one Pokémon's missing?"

It would be considered sacrilege for any Pokémon trainer to go anywhere without their pokebelt, especially in the training community. That and- if there was a commotion of some kind- why didn't Ash use his Pokémon to put a stop to the skirmish?

"I remember Ash had a Pikachu," Jenny reminisced, "and his grandfather said that Pikachu doesn't care much for a pokeball. And he was nowhere in the house when Mr. Parker entered... Wherever they went, Pikachu must have gone with them."

"The fuse box was also burnt out too, ma'am," the male officer also mentioned. "It made quite a detrimental impact."

"Think it was the mouse?" Liam concluded.

His fellow officer shrugged. "Sounds highly plausible... Now thinking about what Jenny said- What if Pikachu was trying to intervene in the scuffle?"

"So you're saying you think the boy did this?" Liam said, entertaining the idea. "That he either commanded Pikachu to act violently or Pikachu was trying to stop them from fighting?"

"I'd like to say no on Ash being the perpetrator," Jenny hurriedly shot down. "It makes no sense for him to leave the rest of his Pokémon if he had intentions of running away and kidnapping his mom in the process. Plus, their truck is still here. It makes logical sense for him to have taken a vehicle, rather than forcing her and himself to walk. Plus, the door looks like it was picked from the outside."

"Maybe he left in a hurry before getting caught and staged the whole thing," the other male officer retorted.

"Yes...but I doubt Ash would do _something_ like this."

Honestly, anything was possible at this point. Jenny was fully aware that if she wished to remain as an open-minded and critical detective, she wouldn't allow any biases or hopeful thinking stand in the way of performing her job. And yet, for some reason, that image of that ten year old boy remained stuck in her mind...

Eventually, the officers who reported were dismissed and continued collecting samples. Liam stood watching Jenny with keen attention, soon placing a gentle hand on her shoulder. They had worked together for a good few years, and because of that, he could read both his fellow officer and friend like a book.

"Jenny," Liam began in a gentler tone, "you knew the kid years ago- and it was for only a _day_. Kids grow up and sometimes...they do unspeakable things."

Liam was trying to help her keep things in prospective. Jenny could see this. She reassured him with a nod as if she understood. And she did, truly. Nothing about her job was easy, especially on the occasion when these crimes involved children. Children who might do "unspeakable things," as Liam noted. But from what the crime scene was telling her, and the distant but clear memory of how dedicated Ash once was in saving his brutally injured Pikachu after that horrific attack from the Spearow and Fearow, plus the storm...

The chief's eyes drifted towards a picture frame with a photo of Delia and Ash inside. One of the few decorations in the house that withstood the struggle. Then, her gaze softened.

_Not this one..._

"Chief?"

A feminine voice from the doorway snapped Jenny back into focus as she twirled around. "Yes?"

It was another one of her officers, a younger trainee. "The boy's paternal grandparents are here. I'd suggest preparing yourself."

While she didn't knew what to expect, Jenny had a decent idea of what might come by the woman's tone. Within seconds, the chief abandoned the house and followed the gesturing of her subordinate, who pointed out the senior Ketchum couple within the multiplying crowd. She could see the look of distress upon both their faces as they moved their heads about to get a glimpse of what was happening on their daughter-in-law's property.

Coming underneath the crime scene tape, Jenny flashed her badge to the pair. "Mr. and Mrs. Ketchum, I'm Deputy Chief Jennifer Anderson of the Viridian Police-"

"What's happened?" Emily interrupted in sheer panic. "Where are they?!-"

"Mrs. Ketchum," the chief put her hands out, "I need you to calm down-"

"_Calm down_?!" the wealthy woman boomed. "Don't tell me to calm down! What you need to do is inform my family as to what has happened to my grandson!"

It was evident Emily was holding back tears, anger claiming her emotions while fear took a backseat. She never liked to appear weak to others, and feeling out of control in a situation as terrifying as this only furthered to rattle her nerves.

Carefully, Jenny elucidated what she could provide. "We believe that an altercation of some kind happened here late last night and now...your grandson and daughter-in-law have seemed to have vanished. Along with Prof. Samuel Oak and Dr. Michael Strayer. It appears there was a break in at the lab."

"Samuel and Michael, too?!" Emily repeated, twice as alarmed.

"Good God," Richard breathed out in sheer shock. "So what you are saying? Are you suggesting that they are connected?" he quickly presumed, trying to remain even for the both of them during this time of distress. "Like this was- a _kidnapping_?"

She had come to the same conclusion herself. "Perhaps. If you wouldn't mind, could you and your wife answer a few questions? It's standard procedure."

"What kind of _questions_?" The last word Emily uttered had a rather sharp and peeved tone to it, as if she knew what the chief was already implying.

Jenny ignored such though, and proceeded. "When was the last time you both spoke to Delia and Ash?"

"It was at the party last night for the Parker's inn," Richard began, looking tired. "Ash had gotten into a physical altercation with Gary. Our other grandson and Samuel's, too."

"Prof. Oak's grandson, too?" repeated Jenny, somewhat surprised by this news.

"Yes. Ash had stormed out after that, and several of us went to look for him. Me, my wife, and my daughter Zelda included."

"And I'm assuming someone found Ash? That's what Mr. Parker had said," she clarified.

"Well, if Ernest had said that, then I presume that's correct," Emily hurriedly answered for the both of them.

Appearing stumped, Jenny cocked an eyebrow. "You both were unaware of this?" she said, looking back and forth between them. "Didn't Delia call you to tell you Ash had come home?-"

It appeared Richard was about to speak up, only for his wife to cut him off in a rather definite tone. "No. Now, look, officer-"

"It's _Chief_." She always hated it when people still called her that- especially when they used such a pious tone like Emily was.

The older woman wrinkled her nose in response. "_Chief_," Emily corrected herself, mockingly. "We had a very long and strenuous evening last night. None of us were in a good frame of mind. Everyone was a little- disoriented."

Clearly. From what she was being told and Emily's dismissive and fast-paced answers, something was attempting to cloak itself from the young police chief. Steadily, she held Emily's gaze and answered. "I understand the situation, Mrs. Ketchum. But even so, I'm going to have to ask both of you and your daughter to come down to the police station for questioning. We need as much information as possible so we can locate your grandson and daughter-in-law."

As much information as possible... Maybe Jenny finally had something to go off of. If they were cooperative, that is.

"Of course," Richard was eager to comply. "You can ask us anything."

* * *

**A/N COUNT.:** As you can see, with the police involved, things may finally be straightened or might get just more complicated for our heroes! The most I know about crime scenes and how they're handled is by watching TV. LOL But I will try to dig a little deeper as the story progresses! ;)

But what is to come next? Will Ash and the others find a way to escape from Team Rocket's hideout? Will Ash and Delia truly discuss what happened the night before? And let's not forget about Jay and the others coping with the recent aftermath. Plus, is Entei Giovanni's last target? Will the legend truly be conceived? So much more to come! :) All I can say is, be prepared for Ash and Delia's reactions to it all! They are definitely not going to just accept this or wait for Jay to come to the rescue! Again, I really don't want to spoil anything, but there will be more developments coming up for all the characters. Things are definitely going to be challenging for Ash, Jay, and Delia in particular. But I can tell you this, none of them are going to give up so easily!

Thank you all again for reading!


End file.
